


the reign of the chokehug

by shakeit_dontbreakit



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M, Quidditch AU, Swearing, dotae, i just wanted to write a sports anime about dream basically, luren, markhyuck, sorry for all the pairings, this is a sports au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2019-11-18 05:05:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 60,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18113864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shakeit_dontbreakit/pseuds/shakeit_dontbreakit
Summary: The DREAM Quidditch team is the best kept secret in the Interasia Quidditch League—that is, until a stroke of unthinkably bad luck triggers a chain of events that robs them of not only of their momentum, but their Captain and ace. Future uncertain, DREAM must chart a new course, find a new player, and eventually destroy 127.Or, an AU in which Wong Yukhei actually gets to join Dream





	1. prologue: thestral spotting

**Author's Note:**

> i watched haikyuu for the zillionth time and just wanted to write a sports anime basically. this isnot supposed to be about the ships but i have to admit....... . ... . theyre there.  
> this is really about DREAM as a team, about working together to kick the ass of their big brothers/rivals
> 
> also i n eeded an au where yukhei is actually in dream so i decided to write one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the machine just WORKS. The gears turn, the individual parts surpass their current limits and grasp at the hems of what they've envisioned their true potential to be. Sometimes the machine is perfect, producing something greater than the sum of its parts. 
> 
> And sometimes that just doesn't matter.

A blur of grey and orange bursts through a drift of cherry blossom petals, followed closely by a screaming bludger. Mark, the blur, tucks the quaffle tighter under his arm and leans forward on his broom—a limited edition _Nightmare Z_ , one of only seven in existence—in order to coax out more acceleration and stay comfortably ahead of the magical cannonball.

That level of comfort is fast dwindling as Mark begins to run out of field.  

“YAH, JAEMIN!” Mark bellows, moving too fast to actually check on the tailing bludger. A familiar shout rings out immediately, closer than expected, and he barely even registers the flash of movement of the Beater approaching at a diagonal from the front and slightly left of him.

“I got you, Cap’n!” Jaemin grits his teeth and flies straight at Mark, missing a collision with his Captain by a dangerously close margin in order to whack the bludger away in a strike that echoes across the entire pitch. “Take THAT, you son of a bitch!”

As quickly as he entered Jaemin is out of the scene and Jeno pops up within Mark’s line of sight, broom posture erect and alert as a meerkat as he scans the area for any follow-up trickery from the opposing Beaters.

Fearless and responsive, Jaemin is always the first to arrive on the scene in times of need but he couldn’t go full throttle if he didn’t have full faith that his partner Beater Jeno was watching his back. Jeno makes up for Jaemin’s energy and impulsivity with steadfast determination and endless stamina. It works.

Mark speeds along on his way, evading an enemy Chaser with a wide barrel roll and catching an upside-down glimpse of Donghyuck as he does. The Seeker holds himself perfectly stationary in the air a few meters above the grass field, quick eyes frantically searching the ground level for even a glimmer of the snitch.

It’s been tough for Seekers on both sides; a day windy enough to disrupt normal snitch flying patterns and an overcast sky dimming the normally visible reflection of the small golden ball. On a good day Lee Donghyuck is an absolute monster of a Seeker, a rare and indomitable athlete incapable of playing any other Quidditch position. Unfortunately today is _not_ shaping up to be a good day—the match has been going for almost 2 hours by now and the only true snitch sighting so far in happened a mere ten minutes after the first whistle.

Moving too fast to shout any encouragement at his Seeker, Mark blows through two opponent Chasers with a light feint before hurling the quaffle directly up 15 meters with a hoarse bark. Up, up, and right into Renjun’s waiting arms.

“Don’t forget Chenle on your three!” Mark shouts, turning upward and to the left, but Renjun is already streaking forward towards the enemy goalposts, a small scrunch of the nose the only indication that he’s exerting any effort whatsoever.

Renjun doesn’t fly with the same power and mobility as Mark but he makes up for his lack of flashiness with elegance, precision and field sense. More of a playmaker than an ace, Renjun is the unsung mastermind behind the majority of their combination plays. He holds the team together from the shadows, allowing Mark to blossom into his full potential as an ace Chaser.

Without warning Renjun is suddenly the target of two bludgers, one from the right and one from the left. Mark has barely opened his mouth to alert the Beaters when Jeno and Jaemin suddenly appear as one, flanking the little Chaser and smashing the threatening bludgers straight back at the opposing Beaters. Even the cracks of impact are in scarily perfect unison.

Quick and ruthless, Chenle quickly catches up with Renjun from midfield and shrieks for a toss but Renjun chooses to fly on, past and eventually around the enemy goalposts.

Renjun feints a reverse shot into the right goal to distract the enemy keeper for the split second needed for Mark to catch up. With a little laugh and perfect timing, Renjun passes to Mark with such effortless technique that the quaffle seems to float over the goal posts like parchment riding a lazy draft of wind.

Renjun’s passes always fall into his hands like an easy, thoughtful gift and Mark absolutely loves it. The quaffle lands squarely in his palm and Mark hurls it past the distracted keeper straight through the middle hoop.

_“ANOTHER GOAL BY CAPTAIN AND LEAD CHASER, LEE MARK! His eleventh goal of the match!! DREAM leads 240-100!”_

The stands are actually quite packed—this is the second match of the Interasia Quidditch League playoffs after all—and the spectators that did venture out on such a chilly spring day as this one bellow their support clear and true. It was an awesome goal and the DREAM Chasers have been having an exceptional match, Mark in particular. The opposing team is by no means weak but it simply goes to show how well the gears are turning for DREAM today.

But it’s not just Mark, Jisung is also having the game of his career with 35 of 45 blocked shots on his goals so far. Youngest player in the Interasia League, Jisung is a textbook prodigy and is capable of playing any Quidditch position, without exception. It’s only because of his height and hand size that he’s currently playing Keeper.

Jisung _is_ owning it today but he wouldn’t be half as successful if it weren't for Chenle playing exceptional defensive Chaser, spending the majority of time on the DREAM side of the field and trashtalking the competition whenever they needed to make a major play or shoot a penalty.

A strong, chilly gust of wind streams through the Quidditch pitch, carrying the smell of wet earth and cherry blossoms. Doyoung closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, reveling in the roar of the spectators and the shouts of cheer within the members of his team. What a match.

Doyoung has coached the DREAM Quidditch team for all of its three seasons and is largely responsible for its creation and installment into the Interasia League. His heart beats quickly and heavily in his chest as he sits astride a decidedly less incredible broomstick than his team uses, hovering in the designated Coach Zone off-field on DREAMs side of the pitch. Not much of a flier himself, Doyoung nonetheless prefers to hover on sidelines, as close to his team as can be.

This game has been wholly one-sided from the start and, again, not because the opposition isn't putting up a fight. Looking down at a clipboard with parchment and attached quill affixed to his broom handle Doyoung checks his collected game notes and stats for the trillionth time and can’t help the giddy, gummy grin that stretches across his face.

All of this is fantastic, not just for DREAM but for their futures as athletes; a great springboard from which to proceed much further than the Interasia League. The entire season has been a true thrill—helping his young, scrappy team actually get their shit together and become something greater than the sum of its parts. This is a slice of their true potential right here, showcased for the world to see.

For the sake of his Dreamies’ individual futures, Doyoung hopes there are reporters or scouts in the stands for this exceptional game. For the sake of their success in this tournament (and his fragile heart, obviously) Doyoung hopes he can keep the secret of DREAMs talent from the professional spotlight just a bit longer. There’s something to be said for getting scouted and poached by better, more high-paying teams in this and other leagues—and Doyoung would never get in the way of any player of his wanting to fly down a different path—but then… then they wouldn’t be _this_ team.

There’s just something about this particular seven that is more magic than the brooms they ride.

 _Now if only they’d actually seal the deal._ Doyoung sighs and squints across the pitch at Donghyuck, trying to assess his state of mind. Donghyuck is a tremendous talent, one of those Seekers you see once in a decade, but he’s _young_. The whole team is lacking experience but it shows most in the Seeker, the position that bears the heaviest mental and emotional burden.

It’s a solitary role, the only one allowed to catch the ball that ends the game. While Keeper is another standalone position, at least they share the quaffle with the Chasers play the same position in a static, defensive way. Likewise, the Beaters have each other and aren’t good enough for a professional league if they don’t work together.

Only the Seeker is truly alone.

Yes, Donghyuck packs the heat of a Hungarian Horntail but he doesn’t have enough professional Quidditch experience to have acquired any wisdom or hindsight and can sometimes crumple under the emotional weight of his position. Luckily they have Mark, his loyal cohort of nearly nine years. He acts as Donghyuck’s emotional anchor when the going gets tough in a manner that touches deeper than simply being a teammate or Captain.

Unfortunately even Mark’s unique touch isn’t working today and Doyoung brings his enhanced Coach’s whistle between his lips to blow for a time out.

_“DREAM Coach Kim Doyoung calling for a time out, his third of five.”_

_What do I say to him? What can I say that Mark already hasn’t, or what Donghyuck hasn’t already considered?_ Doyoung may not actually be a Quidditch player but he understands people and loves his Dreamies with a mindless fire he would imagine most parents feel for their children.

He considers himself a pretty good coach because while he may not be a great athletic leader, he’s proven himself capable of leading them mentally and emotionally. A fact which Doyoung happens to find ultimately more important for the wellbeing of his team than being able to, say, physically smash a bludger into the troposphere or throw a quaffle through a muggle car.

Time out called, the field quickly clears of players and a magically charged blow of the game whistle sounds across the pitch, freezing the bludgers, quaffle, and that pesky snitch midair before they all zoom harmlessly to the side of the referee. They’ll be released again when the players resume their positions on the field. Doyoung watches his players fly towards him with a toothy smile regardless of Donghyuck’s present troubles, going through his own headcount and appraisal of mental states.

Jaemin and Jeno are first to arrive, yelling and yodeling as they smash their Beater’s clubs together with such jarring impacts that Doyoung is surprised they haven’t shattered their arms yet. After this needless waste of energy Jaemin wiggles his eyebrows up and down with a knowing look on his handsome face and Jeno puts his finger to his pursed lips with a small,  _"_ _oop?"_

It’s a language Doyoung isn't quite fluent in but he knows some request was made and accepted and after a heartbeat Jeno and Jaemin switch Beater’s clubs, tossing theirs to the other in unison. They’ve never had designated clubs anyway, out of some unspoken understanding that they’re in this for _them_.

Unlike Jeno and Jaemin’s noisy approach, Chenle and Jisung glide in smoothly, the smaller of the two accurately imitating a particularly impressive save of Jisung’s during the last penalty shoot out. Jisung’s blush shows even through his tan skin as Chenle half-teases, half-praises the youngest in that way that only he can toe the line of.

Jisung _kind of_ warms up for Chenle, just as the Chaser will only be _kind of_ sweet to their youngest. They do not treat anyone else this way, not even the widely-beloved Captain Mark. Their relationship isn’t as ride’n’die as Jeno and Jaemin and hinges more on support than collaboration, which is probably a good thing considering the two youngest on the team are together responsible for practically all quaffle defense.

This is by design. After considering input from each player and a number of outside trainers over the seasons, Doyoung has crafted the overall DREAM play style to be quick and mercilessly offensive. They’re an incredibly high scoring team, opting to use the Beaters to disrupt the opposing Chasers and going hard and fast on scoring, both through the individual skill of the Chasers and through cleverly orchestrated combinations. For the most part, this leaves only Jisung and Chenle on strict defense, with the latter splitting his time between guarding Jisung and assisting Renjun and Mark on offense.

Doyoung’s not going to lie, the all-in offensive strategy has bitten them in the ass before, but the better Jisung gets, the larger the margin between the final scores grows. On top of this Renjun has really stepped up his own game this season, outpacing the current growth of the rest in terms of developing his smooth flight and clever schemes.

The evil genius himself appears to the left of Doyoung like a phantom and it’s only because he’s coached Renjun for years that he’s gotten used to his sneakiness and doesn’t flinch himself off his broom. It’s not to say the petite man doesn’t attract attention when he wants it, it’s that he also knows how to fly under the radar, a trait that has often proven invaluable.

Renjun is as perfectly uproarious as he is quietly introspective and it’s because he understands this within himself that he can utilize both sides to his advantage. Owing to the confusing seesaw nature of his skills, Doyoung fears that the only people who understand Renjun's true strength are the Dreamies, himself included. Despite how such active control of his presence benefits the team, something about how easily he can be overlooked has never sat well with Doyoung.

If DREAM is the best kept secret in the Interasia Quidditch League, Renjun is that secret’s keeper.

Last to float into the semicircle surrounding Doyoung are Mark and Donghyuck, the former with a protective hand on his Seeker’s shoulder blade. He’s muttering something to Donghyuck but the younger is moodily silent. Not good.

Compared to the Beaters’ effortless chemistry and the defense’s odd-couple dynamic, Mark and Donghyuck’s _thing_ stands out as something profound that transcends both Quidditch and friendship. It transcends brotherhood. There’s something painful and powerful between them, as dangerous as a griffin snare and twice as sensitive.

Another breeze drifts by, carrying another cloud of pink petals with it. Surrounded by cherry blossoms and gathered as one, DREAM looks striking in their gunmetal and orange Quidditch uniforms, black shin and forearm bracers, and matching gloves. All 7 of them ride _Nightmare Z_ s, a quick and sleek edition of the powerful broomstick stained the same gunmetal grey as the DREAM uniform. The footholders shine a dull copper that matches the inlaid etching of _'D_ _REAM'_ carved subtly into the wood.

They look strong and professional and Doyoung almost tears up at the sight. Just kidding, he does tear up, he just pretends he gets a petal in his eye so they can’t tell.

“Mmm’k.” Shaking his head of his emotions, Doyoung claps his hands once and wobbles on his broom a bit. Jeno and Renjun both reach out, each grabbing an elbow to steady him. “Thanks, kids. But on to more important matters…”

Doyoung holds the tension for a minute, taking time to look each player in the eye. “You’re killing it out there.”

“Fuck _yes_ we are!” Chenle starts, pumping his fist, but Doyoung shuts him up with a single glare.

“Watch your language.” Predictable of Doyoung, sure, but his familiar prudishness lends a sort of reassurance to the team dynamic—a harmless point of contention that never ceases to draw a reaction from his players. Half of them laugh and the other half roll their eyes.

All react but Donghyuck, who glares heatedly at the dull copper tip of his broom.

“Do you feel that? This?” Doyoung asks with a haughty smirk. “You all coming together like clockwork, elevating your play to something that could take on 127? Even EXO?"

Most nod with varying degrees of confidence, ranging from Jaemin’s cheshire grin to Jisung’s reticent thumbs up. Donghyuck is still glaring, but this time at his own hands balled so tightly his arms shake from the effort.

“Tell me then. Jeno-yah, what does this feel like right now?” Doyoung presses.

Jeno looks shocked at being called out and blushes faintly before pursing his lips in thought. “Er, it feels like we’re... flying.”

Both Chenle and Jaemin open their mouths, ready with some retort along the lines of _fucking duh_ , but Jeno waves them off. “Yeah, obviously we’re _flying_ , but I mean… as if we didn’t need brooms. Like we actually belong in the sky, like a bird or a drake or something that doesn’t need to think to soar.”

“Ca- _caw!”_ Mark imitates the sound of a mundane raven, to which Chenle adds the distinctive shriek of a Seoul Stormhawk. Jaemin is about to jump in with another bird call when Donghyuck interrupts sharply, cutting through the cheer with the might of a masterclass severing charm.

“It doesn’t matter if we can fly if _I don’t catch the fucking snitch!"_

Everyone but Doyoung deflates at this and he knows it’s not the time for the _language_ gag. Donghyuck is still hard for Doyoung to read despite being so obviously fussy, so he opts for a tough love approach.

“Then you just have to catch it, don’t you?”

Mark and Jeno stiffen at this while the others glance back and forth between Doyoung and Donghyuck. The Seeker opens his mouth to speak but seems to think better of whatever he had to say and keeps his glare on his broom.

Doyoung isn’t being harsh, he’s being observant. Donghyuck doesn’t need someone to tell him he’s doing a good job right now because really, he’s _not_ , and he’s smart enough to see that. Donghyuck knows he’s not at his best, just as he’s aware what his best could be.

He needs reminding of a different sort, and Doyoung only hopes his observations aren’t completely off base. “You know what you have to do. You know what you’re capable of. You wouldn’t be on this team if you couldn’t catch the snitch, so go out and do your job.”

Donghyuck likes attention but Doyoung knows that beneath all the bluster and ego is something collected and calculated—a core of capability both quiet and overwhelming. This is the core Doyoung needs to reach.

“Don’t worry about the rest of us, Hyuck-ah.” Renjun jumps in, nodding at Jaemin and Jeno. “We’ll shuffle Beater tactics, have ourselves a fucking hunt. Beats, you guys good to keep on their Seeker’s ass for the rest of the match?”

Doyoung lets the swearing slide because it’s Renjun.

“Consider him deceased.” Jeno nods strongly. “Get ready to spot some Thestrals.”

The silence that falls isn’t because the team doesn’t get the joke (because oh, they do) but Jeno is somehow blind to this and pushes it further. “You know… the skeleton pegusi that you can only see, er... you know, if you’ve witnessed... death.”

The only one even close to laughing is Mark, the corners of his mouth twitching up the slightest bit before he purses his lips and stiffens his jaw to stifle it.

“Leave the shittalking to Chenle.” Renjun declares flatly. Doyoung knows that if he wasn’t currently hovering in between the two boys the Chaser would be throttling Jeno right now. Jaemin administers the punishment for Renjun by socking his partner in the solar plexus.

“M’kay, moving on!” Mark says, slapping Donghyuck hard on the back. “We switch to a capital-B capital-D _Beat Down_ of their Seeker, and we’re still holding such a lead that Chenle can join us in all attack formations. With all three of us going off we can play more interference. Get in everyone’s way, conjure up some chaos, y'know?”

Donghyuck is still looking down, scratching lightly at the D of the DREAM etching in his broom, but he nods at the proclamations of support and rubs the spot where Mark slapped him with a small,  _"ow."_

“Look at you all go, it’s like you hardly even need little ‘ol me…” Doyoung cooes and moves to pinch the cheek of Jeno, hanging on his direct right. The action causes him to lose balance yet again but the Jeno catches him easily with a warm laugh.

“We don’t.” Donghyuck says finally, so unexpected that Doyoung raises his eyebrows in incredulity.

When he raises his head, their Seeker has a glint in his eye more golden than the snitch.

“We don’t need you, Coach, because we have _me._ ” Donghyuck declares, lips curling up into a smirk.

 _“Uh-oh_ , the sun’s back out…” Jaemin mutters, clutching Jisung’s shoulder dramatically. “They’re _fucked_.”

“ _Language_.” Doyoung hisses.

“One Seeker must rise above. Hyuck-ah, show that little snitch who owns this pitch.” Renjun slams his fist into his palm with a dull slap.

“Anything else, Coach?” Mark asks Doyoung who waves a hand in front of his chest and shakes his head modestly. “Alright then, kids, let’s bring his home, shall we?”

Mark waits for their undivided attention. It doesn’t take long.

“Ay-yo DREAM!” Mark bellows, one hand extended into the semi circle.

“JJEOREO JUJA FIGHTING!” Donghyuck, Renjun, Jaemin, Jeno, Jisung, and Chenle respond in the same tone, all throwing their arms in.

“Yooo~oOO DREAM!!!!” Mark shouts again, louder and shriller this time.

“JJEOREO JUJA FIGHTII~IING!” All seven mimic the tone, throwing their hands up before they each fall into their own little hype dance.

Doyoung mouths along with the team chant, refraining from adding his voice as usual. This is _theirs_. It always will be.

Everything feels lighter now that Donghyuck has reclaimed his confidence. It’s probably about 70% posturing but there’s no mistaking the killer in his eyes as he talks to the Beaters about what he’s observed about the opposing Seeker so far. The Chasers and Keeper are likewise huddled, Mark with his arms draped around Chenle and Renjun's shoulders as they redefine their tactics.

Slipping his wand from his sleeve fluidly, Doyoung waves it lazily in the direction of DREAMs specific risers and ends the move with a small flick back towards them, summoning seven water bottles with an unspoken, _Accio_ _hydration_. They fly quickly to each respective player with an extra mental nudge from Doyoung directing whose bottle is whose and the players ignore this particularly advanced employment of a summoning charm in favor of slurping down some water and continuing their conversations.

Soon the referee blows a short blast on her whistle, signalling that it's time to get back into positions for the restart of the game. After another quick, “Yo~DREAM!” chant the Dreamies take to the pitch, hooting and hollering louder than the spectators. Doyoung can feel the energy even from his place in the Coach’s Zone, electricity travelling from his heart to his fingers and toes.

The fans begin to get a bit noisier as all fourteen players take their positions. Doyoung might be imagining it, but he likes to think there are more supporters bellowing “DRE~EAM! DRE~EAM! DRE~EAM!” than the alternative. They are winning by quite the margin and now that Donghyuck has risen from his darkness like a fresh dawn they should be able to take this home right here.

The referee whistles, setting off the snitch and bludgers but not yet starting the game again. After letting the tension build a bit, she tosses up the quaffle with enchanted slowness, holding her whistle between her teeth as she watches the ball for the apex of its ascent. Everyone present holds their breath as the ball reaches its highest point and her whistle sounds again, bringing the ball back to full speed and restarting the match.

Mark lets one of the opposing Chasers get the first grab which allows Renjun to swing around behind him and bop it out of his arms right into Chenle’s waiting fingertips. With a wicked laugh Chenle takes it down field, faster than Mark as he screams along. DREAMs explosive start catches the other team off guard and they hasten to catch up.

Doyoung wrings his hands anxiously, not even aware he’s doing it.

In the stands, another Interasia League Coach and her striking Captain lean forward in their seats, eyes honing in on one player in particular.

The match resumes for less than a minute when the unthinkable happens, barely four meters in front of Doyoung's nose.

In an attempt to avoid a double-team Beater combo from Jeno and Jaemin, the opposing Seeker careens haphazardly and almost tumbles off his broom. Time seems to slow as Doyoung, Jeno, and Jaemin all see a flicker of gold at the tip of his broom before the Seeker flails out an arm to right himself.

In catching his balance, he _accidentally_ catches the Snitch.

Just like that.

Just like that he wins the match.

The end-of-game whistle screeches across the pitch, bringing players and spectators crashing to a silent halt.

Hovering around DREAMs goalposts, Donghyuck’s jaw drops and his eyes widen in sheer horror, one step ahead of the pack in terms of processing what just happened and what it means.

The fact becomes apparent to everyone else when the announcer heralds the victory of their enemy. A moment later the opposing team—the _winning_ team—speeds towards each other and their Coach with bright cries and exaltations. DREAM ceases to move, still confused about the abrupt end of the game, still lost in the rush of adrenaline and a new, creeping sensation of _agony._

With a small wail that almost gets lost to the wind, Renjun is the first to succumb to tears and Jaemin shakes himself of his shock in order to fly to him and envelop the smaller man from behind. This leaves Jeno to tend to Doyoung, who loses some control over his broom in confused distress and begins to float downward shakily. Chenle fumes, Jisung doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes, and Mark lands on the grassy pitch in order to hurl his broom away in a roar of anguish.

Just like that.

The spectators begin to leave, with the very notable exception of a certain Coach and her Captain, the former elegantly leaning back in her seat and nodding with finality, eyes sharp and beautiful. “That’s that, then. Unexpected but ultimately fortunate. Looks like we can make our move earlier than expected.”

Without a word in response the Captain drags his equally sharp gaze across the field, not looking for the player they intend to poach but instead his Coach. His hands ball into fists as he sees Kim Doyoung in the arms of one of his Beaters, broken down in violent sobs that wrack his body so hard the Captain can see him shaking from here.

“Ahh, I know those eyes. Don’t go getting emotional on me, this is just the way things are done.” 127 Head Coach Bae Irene finally rises to her heeled-feet, brushing off invisible dust from the skirt of her black, fully-buttoned frock coat as she turns and begins walking out of the bleachers. She spares no further glance as she leaves her Captain behind.

127 Captain and Lead Chaser Lee Taeyong remains, eyes still on the DREAM Coach.

“Sorry, Doie.” He mumbles into the wind, turning on his heel as he drags his eyes away and jogs after his Coach.

 

 

DREAM is eliminated in the second match of the Interasia Quidditch League playoffs with a 240 to 250 loss.

Less than a month later Mark signs a contract with 127, a high-paying powerhouse that ends up advancing to the final match of the Interasia tournament and losing by only 30 points.

DREAM loses their ace and Captain.

The best kept secret in the league, hobbled before it can find its footing.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so um my first nct fic hah lookat that
> 
> i have waywayway overdue feelings of mark leaving and lucas voice cracking about dream and doyoung loving jeno and leading a dream showcase and we go up being so sporty and and and and now dream is so scattered where is hyuck WHERE IS RENJUN its all crumbling so heres my go at dealing with that
> 
> throw some comments at me, id love to know how you guys like this  
> also look i have a [twt](https://twitter.com/jenoscreamingo)


	2. beef v. elf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DREAM wasn't built around Mark, but as the new season dawns it sure as hell feels that way. Oddly, it's not Doyoung's mothering, Donghyuck's mood making, or even a dumb, cute Jeno joke that reminds them who they are. 
> 
> It's the sincerity of their youngest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope the prologue hurt because i am hurt but a poaching nightmare aint enough to stop dream no siree

It’s summer.

 _Finally_.

DREAM has always welcomed the unofficial beginning of the Quidditch season on the summer solstice. Nothing, not even the loss of a leader (a hero, maybe) and a true, whole upheaval of their group dynamic gets in the way of that.

So, come the third week of June, the six remaining DREAM players meet bright and early after nearly two months of separation, returning after their earned break. Doyoung even gave the team an extra month, an unspoken period of mourning for what they were and what they lost.

DREAM was never technically built around Mark but right now it sure feels like it. Losing him should be like losing a limb but instead it feels more akin to a full decapitation. DREAM doesn’t know how to function anymore. Maybe they don’t even want to.

But as the solstice returns, so do they.

DREAM meets and trains at a facility slightly removed from their home pitch in Incheon, a magical sporting park that hosts a number of public recreational sites for Quidditch, professional broom racing, swivenhodge, griffin riding, fireslap, and (oddly) muggle rugby. There’s even an icy pitch underground for a magical adaptation of muggle hockey where there are actual knives magicked under your feet and you hit a puck of iron back and forth with a limb of whomping willow wood which, much like its mother tree, still moves under its own violent volition. 

This is their headquarters because it's free for Doyoung and, well, they’re broke.

The first meeting of the season is in a dim lecture hall in their rec center. The ceiling is needlessly cavernous and the place itself is more reminiscent of a courthouse than a meeting room, with circular rows rising into shadow and a poorly lit center stage below. The room can comfortably fit fifty people but currently only six souls occupy the seats. To make things somehow more desolate, nobody is sitting together.

There’s no way that’s not a bad sign and Doyoung tries to flick it out of his mind as he stands awkwardly at the center stage wooden podium, shuffling through his stack of new season paperwork.

Normally Doyoung is raring and raving to start the season and while that fire still smolders he can’t afford to pretend that things are just going to zip back up into place as they have before. It’s more than losing a Captain, Chaser, friend and brother, what’s really broken right now is their belief—in their team, in each other. In themselves. Doyoung knows the first step towards reestablishing harmony is transparency and that must start from him.

He’s not going to lie to them and pretend Mark leaving didn’t happen, he’s going to be honest about what it means in order to help them all heal from it.

Closest to him is Jeno, sitting alone in the second row with his shoulders slumped forward and arms crossed over his chest defensively. He’s wearing an all-black outfit from his sandals to his jet black hair, with circular (unsurprisingly, black) browline glasses resting on his strong nose. His normally light skin looks even paler and Doyoung can see the bags under his eyes even from his place at the podium. Jeno might be quiet but he doesn't like to be alone either, and seeing him so removed from the others strikes a minor chord in Doyoung's heart. After a moment of sitting with his arms crossed, he fidgets the slightest bit before leaning back into his chair and crossing his legs stiffly. 

Jaemin is not far from Jeno but is still removed, sitting antsily on the far left edge of the fourth row with his hands in the front pocket of his white, lightweight hoodie. He jiggles his knee with nervous energy and in the moment Doyoung focuses on him Jaemin actually slips his hands out of his pocket and grabs his shaking thigh with both of his hands, clutching painfully tight as though to physically stop it from bouncing. Unlike his partner his gaze keeps jumping around to his teammates one-by-one, again and again. By Doyoung’s estimation Jaemin is about three weeks overdue for a trim of his cinnamon-colored hair and has to flick it out of his eyes every few moments.

Chenle’s stubborn physicality mirrors Jeno’s but instead of matching the Beater’s shout out to the goths the Chaser sports an expensive-looking track suit of mint and white that almost clashes with his pale, lemon dye job. His expression is as sour as his hair and he squeezes his biceps intermittently and bites at the inside of his jaw. Doyoung imagines him chewing on a toothpick and spitting like a ruffian, a picture that isn’t difficult to conjure because Chenle has done both things things before. 

In almost the exact center of the seats Jisung leans back in his chair with fake lanquidity, almost too long to comfortably fit in the space allotted. Every few moments he shifts his position and balances his weight in a different direction as if he can’t decide if he wants to appear comfortable or composed. He’s one of only two players wearing DREAM merchandise, a gunmetal knitted beanie with a pink and orange _07_ embroidery that covers most of his ginger locks. Doyoung decides to take him wearing their colors as a good sign.

Donghyuck sits in the front row at the farthest edge, closest to the door, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees as though ready to bolt at any time. He wears a forest green pullover sweater with yellow lettering, his hood thrown up over messy, recently-dyed caramel locks. Leaning forward in his seat with spring-loaded posture, hands clasped together and half-hidden under sweater paws, Donghyuck might technically be the furthest away from Doyoung’s immediate line of sight but he’s still the easiest to read: he’s ashamed to be here but still wants to be.

Finally Doyoung lets his gaze flick to Renjun, the other player wearing DREAM branded merchandise in the form of a grey windbreaker with orange stripes, pink lettering, and the number _02_ displayed on both of the upper arms. Unlike the other Dreamies, Renjun is staring straight back at Doyoung, brow furrowed as his eyes search for something, any indication of what’s going to happen next for him and his team. After a moment his gaze flips from the sheets in Doyoung’s hands to the way he sets his shoulders to how he holds the breath in his chest before always returning to his Coach’s eyes. Watching.

Beads of sweat start to form along Doyoung’s hairline and he purses his lips with a nod. First order of business is both an ice breaker and a very important point of conversation. After casting his gaze around his players, Doyoung takes a deep, loud sigh and slaps his paperwork onto the lectern with a sharp _smack_ that echoes through the hall.

“Alright, no more pussyfooting around.” He starts, ‘pussyfooting’ being closest he will ever come to swearing in front of the Dreamies. “Welcome back... welcome _home_.” A pause and maybe a sniff.

“Just to get this off my chest before we get down to business, I’m…” Doyoung breaks off, feeling a rush of heat from his neck to his ears and the pricks of tears in his eyes. He’s an emotional person but would rather rip out his teeth than appear as such, especially in front of people he both leads and admires.

“Really, truly, seriously… I’m proud. I’m _so_ proud of you all for being here today. You didn’t have to show up, you didn’t have to stick around. But you did, and that’s just…”

From the second row Jeno nods comfortingly at him, first to arrive at the scene of emotional distress. Sure, he doesn’t talk as much as the others but he spends that time watching and listening and quietly protecting. Always protecting.

He’d make a good Captain.

“Everything. It’s _everything_ that you’re here right now. Not just for me and my livelihood but for yourselves as athletes. As people.” Doyoung breaks off and takes a deep breath. “What this shows is loyalty. Hope. Belief in yourselves and in all of us, and trust me when I say yo— _we_ have never needed this more than we do right now.”

All eyes are on him, quiet and determined. All but Renjun who is quickly taking stock of the responses and emotional states of each person in the room, Doyoung included. He understands the matrix of connections between the seven of them and takes it upon himself to maintain that balance.

He’d make a good Captain.

“I’m not going to lie to you.” Doyoung continues. “I could, but I won’t. We’ve all had our own dark nights of the soul these past months. We're all probably still there, fighting our way towards a dawn that doesn’t seem to break.”

Donghyuck shifts in his seat and burrows deeper into himself. Renjun sees the movement and purses his lips before making a small, stilted move as though he wanted to get out of his seat and join Donghyuck below. But he doesn’t move, instead he grips his small hands into fists and faces Doyoung.

“Okay, full transparency. It’s too early for me to say that we will be okay. It’s too early for me to plot the course our season will take or the obstacles we need to overcome. So...” Doyoung holds them in a dramatic pause, a single elegant finger in the air.

“So. I’m going to start off with a simple request and we’ll build from there. We’ll build ourselves and our season from there. Together.”

“Get on with it, Coach.” Jaemin barks, more playful than admonishing. Chenle mutters in assent and Jeno actually breaks out of his moody pose and laughs once.

Well, he asked for it. “Please raise your hand if you’ve been approached by another team since our playoff loss.”

Despite the neutrality of his utterance Doyoung’s order echoes sharply through the hall like the cracking of a whip. Donghyuck gapes as though he’s been slapped and twists in his seat to look up at his teammates with a look toeing the line between dread and hatred. They eye each other with varying degrees of distrust, all except for Jisung who looks down at his lap.

 _Ah, it WOULD be Jisung,_ Doyoung realizes belatedly.

The youngest twists his lips as he looks at his Coach and slowly raises a long arm into the air, nervously wiggling his fingers. This is a big step forward for Jisung in terms of basic assertiveness and general bravery and Doyoung makes a mental note to bring it up at their next one-on-one meeting.

“WHAT!?” Jaemin erupts after processing this information, shooting out of his seat and almost careening forward into the row below him.

“Jisung, w-what…?” Renjun mutters, shifting through a variety of different eyebrow furrows. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Chenle is curiously silent but that’s probably owing to the fact that his whole body has stiffened up, frozen in shock and rage. He clearly didn’t know his best friend had been approached either, a fact that Doyoung immediately slips into his mental ‘Uh-Oh’ folder.

Suddenly unsure of himself, Jisung lowers his hand and sits on it as though that would cover the shame. “I… uh… It wasn’t like, an _offer_ or anything, just…”

“What team, Jisung-ah?” Doyoung asks gently. Sure, he’s been fending off other teams sniffing at his Beaters during the offseason, but for a team to go directly to a player instead of a Coach? That means _business_. Mark-level business.

“I… okay, just.” Jisung shakes his head and soon his other hand joins its fellow under his thigh. “Can we just, not interrupt me? Until I’m done?”

Donghyuck almost immediately interrupts Jisung at this but manages to catch himself by slapping a hand over his mouth. Chenle sits as still as a gargoyle, Jaemin is actually on his feet now, and Jeno slips back in his defensive posturing.

“Yeah, we can do that.” Renjun is the only one who answers.

Visibly relieved, Jisung lets out a breath before nodding to himself and looking at a spot about half a meter above Doyoung’s head. “Ohh-kay. I was approached by 127s Assistant Coach, Kang Seulgi, about two weeks after Mark-hyung… yeah. It wasn’t a formal approach, more like, er… a fly-by? She said that they have their eye on me, and I think that’s like… a hint for next season or the next-next, or, you know... triple next. But maybe it’s a psyche out?”

Doyoung actually laughs at this. “Sorry to interrupt, Jisung-ah, but it’s not a psyche out. 127 are too good to flirt around with their recruitment, especially if they send Seulgi.”

“So it was an overture…” Renjun mutters quietly but loudly enough to be heard by all.

“They want to light a fire under your ass.” Jaemin growls, swinging his long legs up over the chair next to him in order drag himself up into Jisung’s row. “Get you playing at your best in order to join them later.”

“What’s wrong with that, though?” Renjun jumps in. “We shouldn’t be acting as though this is new, shitty behavior out of the league because, I mean…? It’s not. This is pretty standard.”

“Yeah but doesn’t it seem like they’re kind of picking on us a bit?” Jeno adds, surprisingly controversial. “First Mark, now Jisung?”

“They’re playing the long game with Jisung, it feels different.” Donghyuck says, finally entering the fray. “Not picking _on_ , it’s more like they’re just… _picking_ us?”

Doyoung’s eyebrows shoot up behind his bangs as Donghyuck says this. A poach and an overture isn’t quite a pattern but the fact of the matter is that 127 seems to be paying his humble team an awful lot of attention. Ever the responsible Coach, Doyoung makes a mental note to look deeper into it.

“I—” Jisung starts but then shakes his head and closes his mouth.

Doyoung recognizes the cry for help. “Jisung, what did Seulgi say?”

“Uh. Well. They have their eye on me, especially after that last game, but they don’t have a Keeper or reserve Keeper position open.” Jisung admits, stronger now that Doyoung is paving the road. “She bought me a muggle bubble tea and was really… nice, actually? Sisterly. It didn’t feel like anything close to poaching.”

“And what did you say to her?” Chenle bites, much crueler than he actually is but exactly as acerbic as he means to project.

Jisung doesn’t turn to his best friend, instead he looks down. “I… told her I appreciated their attention but that I have no intentions of leaving this team, well, ever.”

Doyoung gets to witness all six of them break a whole dam of tension at this utterance and considers himself fortunate to be apart the marvel that is DREAM.

Jisung’s bashfulness amplifies the power of his declaration, giving him the strength to continue. “A-and that’s not like a slap at Mark-hyung, nothing like that. Maybe in four years when this team is filled with strangers who don’t get me—don’t get _us_ —I’ll see if they still think I’m worth anything, bu—”

“You’re worth everything. Not sorry for interrupting.” Renjun growls immediately, his face contorted into something that might be rage if it wasn’t still so pretty. He’s not a natural complimenter so this is actually quite something.

“Yeah, um, that’s my point…? We all are. We _all_ are.” Jisung blushes so hard he out-reds his own hair. “So I want to stay here. I want to play with you all for as long as I can.”

Maybe it makes sense that their youngest, their beloved prodigy somehow manages to wobble around all of their defenses and trigger a team-wide catharsis. Jisung may not be the heart of DREAM but he _is_ the mirror—the truest reflection of all seven of them, Doyoung included.

All _eight_. Mark is in there too, his strength and purity echoing in every word Jisung has spoken today.

“ _FUCK,_ Jisung.” Chenle is the first to speak, leaning severely over the back of his chair and covering his eyes with his hands. Those are the beginnings of tears if Doyoung has ever seen them before, but then again he's never seen Chenle cry so who knows.

Some people get sad. Chenle gets _mad_. But there’s only sincerity and rare fragility in his next choked words. “You should have  _led_ with that, you absolute dick.”

Doyoung is just going to give each Dreamie a pass on bad language for the duration of this meeting. They’ve earned it.

“Ya~ah check you out, you fucking hotshot!” Jaemin taunts, surging towards Jisung and bouncing into the seat next to him. In another moment he’s ruffling the Keeper’s hair. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a rising star.”

“Get off—” Jisung grumbles, leaning away from Jaemin but making no move to get out of his seat and make the distance real.

Doyoung exhales quietly, resting his fingertips on his collarbone. “Anyone else?”

They all shake their heads and Renjun pipes up. “What about on your end, Coach?”

Transparency, right. “Well… yes. Three teams came knocking on the Beaters’ door, none I deem worth consideration. I’ll give you more details when we have our Beaters meeting, though I'd like to hear your thoughts now.” Doyoung says, looking from Jeno to Jaemin and then back to Renjun.

It’s not to say the Beaters don’t deserve to be so attention-worthy but in the back of his mind Doyoung knows Renjun should receiving overtures as well. The League should be _lining up_ to fill his dance card because that’s exactly what Renjun does, he dances through the air and choreographs the team in the process. Technically Doyoung’s favorite Dreamie is Jeno (a fact that would be plain from his behavior if not for the fact that he declares, _Jeno is my favorite,_ every other week) but little else irks him more than the fact that no one in the Interasia League seems to _get_ Renjun.

Nobody leans back in their seat and mutters, _"damn that boy can fly."_

Doyoung will have to do something about that because _damn_ that boy can fly.

And what about Chenle? Quick, merciless, very talented but still has some polishing to undergo and Doyoung intends to use this season to do just that. They’re going to hone all that anger and intensity into something lethal and noteworthy and it’s going to blow everyone’s socks off, end of story. Chenle’s current strengths are his speed and, more importantly, his ability to mentally and physically handle streaking down a limited field at 300kph without losing his marbles. There’s _clearly_ Seeker blood in Chenle and Doyoung intends to get him alone in a room with their Seeker trainer to suss it out.

Doyoung is actually surprised no one came calling after their true Seeker, disastrous elimination game or not, but from the look on his face Donghyuck isn’t surprised. He tosses his hood off his head, shakes out his hair aggressively, and then flips the hood back up before tugging the cuffs of his sweater over his hands.

Donghyuck’s talent is unmistakable but there’s a limited number of Seeker positions available in this league. It’s different for Beaters and Chasers who enjoy double or triple the positions possible than Seekers—even Keepers have an easier time because given their skillset, they can often make the jump to Chaser without much effort. Not only is the Seeker position the most popular, the main dream of magical children, it’s also the most scarce within professional leagues. Being that particular brand of Seeker that can’t easily play any other position Donghyuck has had the deck stacked against him from the start.

But oh, the _Beaters_. Jeno and Jaemin are truly something magical together and anyone with eyes can see that. You could probably _smell_ their talent and compatibility as they pass by, taste it on your tongue. It’s not just about teamwork with them, it’s about polymerization. They _become_ something else, something new when they play together. Jeno might be physically stronger and more experienced but Jaemin is scrappy and clever and together they are inexhaustible, limitless. Any team looking to revamp their Beater unit would trade their own organs for JenJaem.

And obviously Doyoung would trade his organs to _keep_ them, but this is their choice and he doesn’t get to mess with that. “So Beaters, you guys want to jump ship?”

“Uh, no way.” Jeno mutters immediately, shaking his head with a pout. He looks offended Doyoung would even ask.

“Never.” Jaemin agrees. He and Jeno look at each other and both smile softly in unison before Jaemin claps Jisung hard on the shoulder. “Not when this little nugget wants to play with us _sooo_ badly _._ ”

Jisung sighs audibly and Chenle lets out a high, ringing cackle.

By the time Doyoung looks away from the Beaters, Renjun has vacated his seat in favor of sitting directly behind Donghyuck. He leans forward, hands on the Seeker’s shoulders as he rocks him side to side gently. After a moment he mutters something into Donghyuck’s ear that makes the younger blush and half-heartedly try to push him away. Probably a compliment—Renjun seems to be in a rare mood today.

Maybe Renjun knows his compliments are far and few between and that’s why he’s employing them now, at the moment they all need it the most. Or maybe he just sees Donghyuck in distress and follows through on his knee jerk reaction to make sure he’s okay. Regardless, this team is proving capable of beginning to heal itself within the first hour of gathering and Doyoung has to hold the back of his hand against his mouth and look straight up at the ceiling to avoid crying in front of them.

Good lord, they’ve barely made it past his second agenda point and Doyoung is already leaking. He tries to gather himself because the weight of the entire meeting hangs on the next agenda point.

Captain.

“Alright, settle down. As much as I love to see you reveling in your hard-wrought bonds, we have more to tackle as a team.” Doyoung picks up again, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the low babble of his players. Quick as lightning, six faces snap to his.

The mood shifts. They know what’s coming.

Doyoung takes a deep breath.

“I believe there are different types of leaders in the world.” He begins. “Some have the charisma of a hero, some shine with the divinity of a prophet. Some rely on empathy, others on pragmatism. Some of them have the strength of mind to understand and be able to explain a great many things, and some of them just have a magnetism that makes people feel _good_ around them.”

He smiles tenderly. “To be honest, I see these elements in all of you. But at this particular moment, I believe these traits shine the most in two of us in particular.”

“You counting yourself twice there, Coach?” Jaemin fires off smugly. It’s a compliment wrapped in an insult, a Na Jaemin specialty.

Doyoung waves him off. “Huang Renjun…”

No one is surprised.

“And Lee Jeno.”

Jeno makes a doglike noise of confusion at this, but Chenle, Jaemin, and Renjun all nod in comical unison. Renjun seems to get it even more than the others and continues to nod after the others have stopped.

“Does anyone other than these two have any desire to Captain this team?” Doyoung asks quickly, collecting four shakes of four different heads. “Then here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to put this to a vote, Jeno and Renjun only. No write-ins. Obviously the candidates vote as well.”

“Are _you_ voting?” Chenle asks from the back.

Doyoung shakes his head before freezing and changing his motion to something more of an ambiguous shake-nod. “I’m prepared to be a tie-breaker _only_ if I can be positive the tie isn’t out of some underhanded attempt to force me to decide the matter. Donghyuck-ah.”

The Seeker snaps to attention. “Yeah?”

“This statement is directed _entirely_ at you. No trickery.”

Donghyuck shoots Doyoung a wounded look. “ _Coach_ , I would never! I only _wish_ I could be that nefarious…”

Renjun snorts behind him and Donghyuck twists back in his seat to slap at his friend’s knee.

Doyoung crosses his arms over his chest. “We all remember the Puking Pastilles incident of Winter ‘18 _and_ Summer '18. And then the _three_ dead grandmothers of Winter ‘17—”

“People can have three grandmothers! Don’t be so close minded…” Donghyuck knee-jerk defends his proven lie before catching himself and hanging his head a bit. “But don’t worry, I’m not going to fake-real vomit all over this cute little democratic election, Coach.”

“Could have done without that disgusting imagery but I’ll hold you to keeping your stomach.” Doyoung sighs, half exasperated and half fond. “Moving on. Jeno and Renjun. It’s a lot to think about and I know I’m springing this on you out of the blue so I want you all to take the next hour to think it through. Discuss it amongst yourselves if you wish or just brood in a corner somewhere. After the hour is up, we’re going straight into light conditioning and flying drills and whatever else I think of in the next 8 hours.”

“Wait, when are we…?” Jeno starts anxiously. “You know. Voting?”

“First thing tomorrow. Use today’s conditioning to sniff each other out, mull it over when you go home, and be ready with your decision before we start again tomorrow.”

Maybe Doyoung should have given them a week, a month, maybe the next three months to think about this. Or maybe the most honest decisions are made in this way, sudden and transparent.

When the players begin to shoot Doyoung uncomfortable glances he realizes they need privacy and gathers his so-far useless papers and lopes stiffly off the stage and out of the lecture hall. The hallway he enters is equally dark and much chillier and Doyoung lets the heavy wooden doors close behind him before leaning his weight back on them with a deep sigh.

From this position he can still hear them, specifically Jaemin’s low, muffled drawl. _“Soo~oo, should we arm-wrestle over this or just have a wizard’s duel? I bet on Jeno for the first and Junnie for the second.”_

With a grin, Doyoung pushes away from the doors and starts toward his makeshift office down the hall.

Of course he wants to stick around and hold his ear to the door, not just to listen to what they’re saying but also to maybe make sure they’re not actually going to decide this with an arm wrestle between the team beef and the team elf. That would be… well technically it _would_ be some sad sort of natural selection but Doyoung hopes they pick a Captain for leadership potential, someone they all decide is best suited to lead them. He may be prepared to play this season with either one of them at the helm, but it surely would help if that person were decided through fair deliberation instead of by some lopsided pissing contest.

The both have it in them—Renjun with the air of a prophet and Jeno with the sincerity of a hero. Renjun who could successfully explain Arithmancy to a grindylow and Jeno who can flood someones heart with warmth and security with a single eye smile.  

There are many good things that come along with the type of leadership one might expect from Lee Jeno: support, autonomy, quiet strength of mind and body. A team designed around Jeno as Captain would be more democratic, egalitarian even, with an emphasis on developing each individuals’ talents as they are presently. This would mean Jisung digging deeper into Keeper, Donghyuck diving into his own potential as Seeker, Chenle making strides towards becoming their ace, Renjun continuing to orchestrate and perform, and the Beaters themselves doubling down on their already existing chemistry.

This might also mean that nothing would really change, that DREAM would stubbornly stick to their strengths and hope that Mark wasn’t wholly integral to the nature of their existing skills.

Then there’s Renjun who despite his diminutive figure and outward fragility is actually one of the scariest people Doyoung has ever known. It’s not simply his propensity to choke out his teammates and lock them in wuxi finger holds, Renjun isn’t afraid to fight outside of his weight class and that shows a sort of soul power much more substantial than simple runt mentality. Not only is he terrifying, he manages to be graceful, controlled, and most importantly _creative_. Renjun couldn’t work with Doyoung to organize combos if he wasn’t able conjure them in his mind and he surely couldn’t improvise plays midgame if he didn’t trust in his creativity and imagination.

It’s more than just believing that some tricky maneuver might work, it’s imagining it, predicting it in every possible configuration, and summoning it into being. Sensitive to the past, present, and future all at once, Renjun already has a lot on his plate simply by being a playmaker. Adding the extra layer of leadership on top of strategy might upset the delicate balance he holds between punisher and maestro.

Can he retain both roles while also adding _Captain_ to that list? Would it be too much, or would it unleash the true potential of his orchestration? Renjun is quick-witted and creative, with an imagination and growth mindset that outstrips Jeno’s by the circumference of the earth.  But Jeno is steadfast, trustworthy, and _strong_. He never falters and almost never makes mistakes. There’s a certain wisdom to Jeno, the type of earthly insight more akin to a herbologist or someone who lives close to the land and maybe that’s what the team needs right now. Something heartier and ultimately more comfortable than Renjun’s artistic mysticism.

In the end the decision is about the present or the future. Stay the course with Jeno or risk it with Renjun? Both are valid, both are reasonable, and both paths divert from the other almost instantly.

Doyoung sighs, ending the exhalation with a weak whistle. The sound echoes down the rec center hall and eventually back again, quieter and sadder than before. Around the Dreamies Doyoung has to hold himself strong and above all, honest, but this doesn’t necessarily mean letting them into his head and heart.

Here, finally alone, he lets himself acknowledge that he’s going through his own emotional gauntlet—a lack of direction, a confusion regarding purpose and value. What does he do now?

Muffled laughter suddenly erupts from the hall behind him and Doyoung is unsurprised he can pick out each individual’s laugh though the riot. Their laughter answers his question for him.

The only thing Doyoung can do now is trust these six goofballs to plot their new course.

Doyoung laughs at this thought, first quietly and fond. Soon the laughter bubbles up louder, less controlled. By the time he gets to his office the laughter is maniacal.

It’s in their hands now.

_Yikes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love renjun i love him with everything and he should be PEDASTALED 
> 
> next up we elect a captain and deal with some other shit and maaaaybe get a peek at how marks doin over in 127
> 
> comments and kudos help fuel me but so does a little interaction on the ol [twt](https://twitter.com/jenoscreamingo)


	3. one whole Bother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We heal, we hurt, we _want_ to hurt, and the Dreamies end up being kind of totally fine so maybe Doyoung should figure out how Mark is faring over at 127. Their old Captain forgot something important afterall, something that will always belong only to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> try to guess my dream bias 
> 
> jk its all of them
> 
> (jkjk, its the one i compliment way more than good writing form dictates i should because he doesnt get SHIT from sm) (as well as that nerd with the coyote) (and then that sweet dude with the french) (and then that stupid backhugger) (and the one with the dirtiest mouth) (and also the one who actually has the title line) (and fckin mark lee)
> 
> anyway go dream !!

Doyoung’s office is actually just a miscellany closet, half of which is devoted to extra storage of sports paraphernalia. His ‘desk’ is plank of wood resting on two Quidditch ball crates and he actually had to steal his chair from the cafe attached to the recreation center. A bundle of Whomping Willow limbs tied together in the corner occasionally attempts to wiggle out of its bindings and there’s a tattered old poster fixed to the wall advertising a swivenhodge championship match that took place in 1915. A few small, dusty alchemic globes floating around the ceiling illuminate dimly as soon as Doyoung enters, casting a sick yellow light too weak to actually be useful.

A large, half-melted candle sits on the corner of his desk that Doyoung lights with a nonverbal flick of his wand before maneuvering his way around a crate of loose, forgotten Quidditch armor and taking his seat with a sigh. This season DREAM _will_ bring home a top-four rank or even a championship season and he’ll be able to afford better digs, perhaps with an office that is actually designed to be an office. Afterall the IQL is a professional league, and with success comes sponsorships, donations, advertising deals, and reward money that they desperately need right now. Admittedly if they were to sell even a single _Nightmare Z_ broom they could afford to rent a private pitch of their own, but Doyoung isn’t quite ready to go there yet.

Their suite of brooms represents the true potential of DREAM, a snapshot of them at their perfect seven and Doyoung would rather eat Mark’s abandoned _Nightmare Z_ tip to tail than relinquish something so priceless and meaningful.

After a deep sigh that disturbs the flame on his candle, he rifles through packets of parchment and organizational charts, idly looking for something to do. He manages to distract himself for a moment by filling out a requisition for a new uniform for Jisung (the kid is still growing about a foot a day) but Doyoung is good at paperwork and finishes it up quicker than he intended. After that, he double checks and actually does find an error so he opts to just do it all over again to waste more time.

He finds a few more nonsense things to do before checking his watch and laughing once when he ascertains they’re barely ten minutes into their deliberation process. Left with little else to do Doyoung kicks his legs up on his desk and twiddles his thumbs, imagining what might be happening in the lecture hall. Somehow Jaemin’s jest of arm wrestling is the easiest to conjure in his mind’s eye and that is not a good thing.

If they were acting alone, Renjun would put it up to tasseomancy or osteomancy, Donghyuck would whip out his tattered tarot deck, and Chenle would most likely opt for Jaemin’s jokingly proposed arm wrestle just to see it happen. Jeno would attempt to combine whatever emerges from Jaemin and Renjun’s methods of determination and Jisung would not have anything to say on the matter though he will surely have something in mind.

(And Mark? Mark would have just put it to a vote. So.)

Memories of Mark threaten to spring into his mind so Doyoung beats them back, slumps lazily into his chair, and spends another minute alternating between blowing his cheeks in and out and pursing his lips with a twisted expression. A tangible change in atmosphere tingles his skin; the approach of something warm and soft and far more inviting. Soon a glimmer of silver light shines under the door and he smiles in immediate recognition as the glow seeps under the crack and slowly billows through it. It’s that telltale silvery blue that most of the adult magical population can recognize in an instant but only a fraction can competently conjure themselves.

In another moment a shapeless patronus slips under the door and flows neatly into the form of a fox—no, its much larger than that. A coyote. Its glow completely illuminates his cupboard office, the brightness outshining his candle and alchemical globes and casting sharp shadows in the places the light can’t reach. Doyoung has an urge to cover his eyes but thinks better of it and instead rises to greet the patronus with an uncertain little wave.

After shaking out its fur the silver coyote stares right at Doyoung and tilts its head curiously before bounding at him, half-leaping, half-flying through the air. Instead of make contact with him the coyote runs a giddy circle around him, jumping up around the walls and over his desk with a soft magical hum. Once done with that circuit it starts running up the walls and eventually scampers around the ceiling for good measure.

The patronus goes for one more run around before jerking to a halt in front of Doyoung with an impatient little hop and a rather humanlike jerk of its snout towards the door. After two moments of silence it hops in place and indicates the door again.

 _Jaemin, maybe?_ Doyoung wonders idly before getting the point of it all with a bright laugh. “Oh, _follow you_.”

The coyote hops once more before wiggling its lithe body back under the gap and taking its warmth with it.

Well. Fancy spellwork aside it looks like the Dreamies have come to some conclusion, and quickly too. Doyoung tries not to reason out which of the candidates this fact most likely implies. It is entirely realistic for them to have already voted, already come to their decision regarding their new Captain despite the 24 hour period Doyoung had given them, and he doesn’t know whether or not he should be alarmed.

Wasting no more time, Doyoung stumbles out of his office and awkwardly speed-walks down the hall to catch the patronus. The coyote gives him one final hop before diving through the gap under the door to the lecture hall and Doyoung takes a deep breath before pushing the door open.

The first thing he notices is a very _very_ good thing. The six Dreamies have changed seats and are now sitting in a clump in the center of the 2nd and 3rd rows, laughing and chattering and perfectly comfortable with each other. The coyote is indeed Jaemin’s and he continues to direct it around the room while Donghyuck attempts his own patronus charm but can only manage a small sputter of silver light from the tip of his wand. A pride of a different color than normal swells in Doyoung’s chest at Jaemin’s magical aptitude, something he can actually empathize with unlike, say, athletic ability. Even when Jaemin dispels his patronus the coyote’s warmth lingers in the air and in their hearts.

Na Jaemin _isn’t_ a Quidditch player and that’s what makes him so special. A young man who never intended to become an athlete and most likely tested high in most of his adult professional aptitude exams, Jaemin has always been a bit difficult for Doyoung to pin down. As DREAMs only muggle born, he no doubt had to work twice as hard and with no safety net in order to earn his place in this magical world, but capability of his caliber can hardly be explained by sociology alone. Jaemin is just a bit different from the others, a jack of whatever trade he fancies in a different way than Jisung being good at every Quidditch position. He’s an adaptable, well-adjusted, confident young man, the type of person who finds it easy to draw light and strength from his core and project it to the world.

 _Ahh, he’d make a good Captain too…_ No, Doyoung can’t think like that. Jaemin is good at Things and while that probably includes leadership, he doesn’t have any semblance of Quidditch savvy yet—the kid barely knows all the technicalities of the game. Give him a few years though? He might be running this place.

Doyoung shakes his head of this musing in order to bring himself back to the present. “I get the feeling you’ve already come to a consensus?” He says with a confused raise of his brow.

“We have.” Renjun declares simply.

“And you’re not going to like it, Coach,” Jeno admits with a glowing, sheepish grin that doesn’t match the negativity of the statement.

“Do tell.” Doyoung smiles fakely, pretending not to be bothered by this mysterious turn of events as he takes his place back behind the podium. He _is_ bothered. He is one entire Bother and his heart thumps painfully in chest because of it.

Donghyuck clears his throat once, then again with more drama. “We, that is to say DREAM, have decided to throw a stick in your spoke.”

Jaemin bursts out laughing and corrects his his abysmal attempt at a muggle idiom. “‘ _Put a spoke in your wheel’_ , Hyuck.”

“We’re tossing spokes all up in your everywhere.” Donghyuck doubles down on his error with a hard nod.

Doyoung slumps in place. “Come on, guys...”

Jaemin and Donghyuck both start speaking at the same time before turning to each other, harmless electricity shooting between their eyes. The Beater gestures to Donghyuck to take the reins at the same time the Seeker nods at Jaemin to continue.

“Merlin’s fucking dick, guys.” Chenle jumps in, shaking his head. “It took us less time to decide Captain than it’s taking to declare it.”

“ _AND?_ _”_ Doyoung asks, starting to lose patience.

“And.” Jisung nods. The other players look expectantly at him to continue but the Keeper just shrugs and leaves it at that.

“You… you guys are just messing with me now, right?” Doyoung asks, eyes narrowed in distrust.

Jeno laughs and links arms with Renjun next to him. “A little, Coach. But we know what we want and we don’t need 24 hours to decide.”

“As soon as you declared the candidates we knew what to do.” Renjun says, shifting in his seat a bit closer to Jeno. “I mean, why have one when you can have both?”

 _Both._ Doyoung didn’t even think of that. How on earth did he not think of that? “You mean…”

“Co-Captains!” Jaemin claps brightly.

“Co… huh.” Doyoung mutters, blushing a bit. The idea had never crossed his mind, even after months of racking his brain for a solution. Far from his own embarrassment, seeing DREAM so clearly at peace with their decision and the ease at which it was made warms him to his core. “Okay. Okay then. Two Captains. Huang Renjun and Lee Jeno please, uh, shake hands or something?”

Instead of follow Doyoung’s half-assed instruction, Jeno and Renjun pull each other closer, still connected at the elbow. They do end up shaking hands with the arms that aren’t already linked, bowing with melodramatic politeness to the other.

The more Doyoung digs his teeth into the idea, the more he likes the taste. If it’s Jeno and Renjun, co-captaincy doesn’t seem like a bad thing. At _all_. Beef and elf are basically two sides of the same coin—Jeno’s backbone can anchor Renjun’s whimsy and Renjun’s creativity can open Jeno’s mind.

Oh damn. This might work.

“Good, I’m liking this. I mean, it sure as shit wasn’t going to be _moi_.” Donghyuck says with a pretty eye roll.

“ _Language._ ” Doyoung lets slip, momentarily forgetting about the temporary Bad Language permit.

“... French?” Donghyuck ventures with a completely straight face and the other five burst out laughing.

There’s a distinct merriment in the air, not only different than minutes before but different than it’s _ever_ been. A new form, a new DREAM. As this thought resolves Doyoung feels a deep, sharp tug on his heart as images of Mark throwing his arms over the Beater’s shoulders pop into his mind. Then comes snapshots of Mark doubled over in laughter at each and every single thing Donghyuck does, Mark playing monkey in the middle with Renjun and Chenle, Mark practicing penalty shots against Jisung late into the night. Just Mark.

“Great. Nice. Okay… let me just…” Doyoung finds himself out of sorts and laughs to himself, completely bowled over by how well they’ve collected themselves. He’s reminded of Donghyuck’s final rally during that fateful last game, ‘ _we don’t need you, Coach, because we have me_.’

They don’t need Doyoung because they have Renjun and Jeno. And Donghyuck. And Jaemin and Jisung and Chenle. In fact, the only thing they do need now is another player. Suddenly Doyoung feels less like a Coach and more like an empty-nested mother.

“Okay, that’s done.” Renjun says with a deliberate nod. “Now we have to save our season. We need a Chaser.”

Jeno nods sharply.

“We don’t necessarily need a Chaser...” Doyoung chimes in, stricken with a sudden rush of superfluousness. It’s an inconceivable notion (because oh, do these children need a coach) but Doyoung can’t help but feel strangely threatened by the fact that they’re already this balanced and self-sufficient despite so recently losing Mark, their keystone. “Not when Jisung can sub in. But I do think Chaser tryouts are a good place to start.”

Renjun nods, casting a quick glance at Jisung who returns his gaze with a shrug.

“And that so happens to be the final agenda point of this morning’s meeting: Tryoo~outs.” Doyoung sings lamely. “We’ve never poached a player before and for better or for worse, I do not intend to. However! I’m liking this new egalitarian era we’ve entered here, so if we ever want to tiptoe through that bureaucratic tangle and begin to scout and poach we will put that to a vote as well.”

Afterall their Mark wound is still so fresh, still unhealed despite how well they’ve reclaimed their balance and Doyoung prefers growing talent as opposed to simply acquiring it. But he did absolutely mean it when he said he would include the Dreamies’ opinions in the matter. This needs to be _their_ team, not Mark’s.

“I have a list of free agent Chasers who are looking pretty good to me that I’ll invite to tryouts. Captains Jeno and Renjun—” Doyoung cannot help but beam as he says this. “—we’ll go over this list together after lunch. This will be open-call so we’re sure to get some oddballs on top of who we invite. It’s already scheduled for five days from now.”

It’s quite soon but they need to get going now that the regulars have decided to remain on the team and Captaincy has been determined. It’s time for business. “It’ll be a day-long tryout loop _next week_ because we really need to start moving.”

“Yeah, especially if none of these potentials end up ebbing with our flow.” Donghyuck adds, illustrating himself with a loose wave of his arm.

“Coach, what do you need from us?” Chenle asks, surprisingly mature and respectful. Maybe Doyoung shouldn’t be so surprised—all six of them seem to have aged half a decade in the last ten minutes.

“Oho, I’m glad you asked.” Doyoung smiles widely. Perhaps a bit evilly. “I need you and Renjun to get down to business figuring out what’s now missing from your dynamic, and bring Jisung into the conversation. Pinpoint that missing third and what form it could take and keep this in mind for tryouts. The same instruction goes for the rest of you, but the imperative is for our Chasers to feel good with each other.”

“Ebbing with our flow, huh...” Jaemin chimes in. “I mean, it’s not like we _need_ another Mark. Don’t need a carbon copy, just something that fits. Someone who can handle Chenle’s meteorite throws and trust Renjun to improvise. And obviously they have to have a bounce with the rest of us because there’s nothing scarier than not believing that your Beaters have your back...”

Renjun turns to his friend with feigned mistrust. “Excuse me, _sir_ , Captain elections were all of five minutes ago. You should have pulled out this leadership savvy when you had the chance.”

Jeno laughs brightly at the idea of Jaemin as Captain. “Captain Nana would have us all getting those brain phones—”

“— _Smartphones,_ you muppet. Did you even take Muggle Studies?” Jaemin interrupts despite already knowing Jeno is extremely ignorant when it comes to the muggle world.

“I once saw Jeno try to converse with a turnstile.” Jisung muses suddenly.

Donghyuck lets out a bark of a laugh. “I remember that! He even bowed, _‘with your permission I would like to pass…?’_ and with that sweet little inflection...”

Jeno is blushing something fierce and Jaemin comes to his defense despite being the one to throw him under the muggle ignorance bus in the first place. “Yeah, yeah, but _nothing_ can top Renjun getting into an actual fight with that muggle gypsy who tried to read his palm. Damn, Captain, I’m pretty sure you _spat_ on her.”

“I wish I did… charlatan couldn’t even properly interpret a pronged fate line…” Renjun shakes his head with sincere effrontery. “I wanted to upend her little table but Mark held me back.”

Doyoung isn’t imagining the sudden tensing of every person present. He wishes Jaemin was still conjuring his patronus to keep them safe and content because all it took was one single slip up for their _persona non grata_ to pop back into the foreground of each of their minds.

But maybe that’s not the worst thing. They have full rights to view Mark as a turncoat but that doesn’t mean he has to be viewed as an _enemy_. No, it makes more sense to view him as boss they need to beat. Or better yet, a rival to slaughter.

It takes some time but it’s Renjun who recovers first.  

“We’re going to beat him.”

It’s a declaration, heavy with pain and promise. He looks Doyoung dead in the eye to restate it. “We’re going to beat Mark.”

Jeno pushes his glasses up his nose and straightens his posture. “We will.”

“We have to.” Jaemin adds with a nonchalant shrug.

“We _can_ , too. We can beat him.” Jisung grits his teeth and balls his hands tightly.

“Of course we can.” Chenle jumps in, socking Jisung in the shoulder. “I mean, who else knows him so well?”

“127 will never know him as well as we do.” Donghyuck, last and most powerful. They all know _we_ is a bit of an overstatement, but their Seeker is right, as usual. “He made his decision. And now we’ll make him suffer for it.”

Doyoung blanches and ‘ _Donghyuck wants to hurt Mark’_ gets immediately filed in his ‘Uh-Oh’ folder along with Jisung and Chenle’s recent lack of communication.

“Still want to see you nerds arm-wrestle, though…” Jaemin breaks the tension with a huge pout, crossing his arms in front of his chest on Renjun’s other side.

The little Co-Captain hums under his breath before swiftly wrapping his arms around Jaemin’s neck and pulling him flush against him. “How about a chokehold instead, hmm?”

“AGughk—” Jaemin sputters through the hold. “I-ifg—gkleggo l-let—”

On Renjun’s other side, Jeno guffaws before leaning into Renjun, using his larger size to giddily wrap his long arms around both him _and_ Jaemin, dragging them both into a squeezed hug that the both victims weakly attempt to wiggle out of.

“Hah! So.” Chenle lets out one sharp cackle when he turns in his seat to see the squabble. “What is this, then? Have we entered the the reign of the chokehold or the reign of the backhug?”

“Both.” Jisung says simply. “It’s the reign of the choke… hug.”

Donghyuck snorts unattractively at this before clapping and loudly proclaiming, “Long live the chokehug!”

“ _Long live the chokehug!”_ The others respond in unison, with zero practice or actual intent to do so. They eye each other suspiciously before bursting into cackles.

Doyoung sighs so happily, so deeply that he shrinks a good half of a foot and has to hold on to the podium to keep himself from melting into a puddle of affection and seeping straight into the wood of the platform. The Dreamies are still so unbelievably brilliant and committed to each other that he wonders why he ever feared for their continuance as a team in the first place.

But another fear takes its place, wiggling out of the ground like worms after rain. Even in the safety of his mind Doyoung really doesn’t like to swear, but:

_How the fuck are we going to find anyone else compatible with something that’s already so perfect?_

 

. . . . . . .

 

 _Smack. Smack. Smack-smack._ Mark strikes at the sandbag hanging from the ceiling in the dim light of 127s private gym, ignoring the sting of his hands and acidic burn of his muscles. He deserves it, deserves the bloody knuckles and numbing forearms, just as he deserves the guilt and shame that color his every day.

He doesn’t actually deserve it, but then again he _does_. It’s the only thing he deserves, especially today.

Mark never considered boxing to be a good Chaser workout before but Yuta insists on it and he has to admit it’s good practice for ferocity, strength, and control. But only if he does it _properly_. Systematically, with a trainer or teammate there to coach and support. Not like this.

 _Smacksmacksmacksmack_. Mark feels another knuckle split under the tape wrapped around his fingers and doesn’t need to look at his fists to see the blood begin to stain through the bandages. It doesn’t stop him from hitting more, harder, more aggressively. His form breaks down and by now he’s probably doing more harm than good to his body but doesn’t let himself stop.

127 trains at a private facility cleverly hidden in the jungle of Seoul, a place completely designed with them in mind. Their official colors are neon green, black, and white, and every aesthetic decision reflects this scheme excessively. Hell, the soon-to-be-bloody boxing sandbag is that lime color, as is his branded water bottle and sports bag. Maybe it’s because he’s still used to DREAMs shitty rec center that the sheer excess of 127s resources can make him feel nauseous.

Or maybe it’s just that neon green.

Their facility is only a floo-pinch away from their home pitch on the outskirts of the city— _Donghyuck is only one pinch away too_ , he can’t help but think _._ One breath of floo powder, one apparition, one clever portkey and Mark could just…

 _Smack. Smack-smack-smack._ Every hit of the sandbag sends a jolt of pain up his arm and straight into his heart. He misses Donghyuck so much it feels like he hasn’t seen the sun since they had last seen each other, regardless of how disastrous their parting had been.

Mark still remembers his face, his confusion and betrayal and fucking _heartbreak_ as he translated those three words, “ _I’m leaving DREAM”_ into what they really were: _I’m leaving YOU._

Then Donghyuck, so intelligent, so sensitive, so fucking beautiful, packed all his rage into his eyes and calmly delivered, _“Good fucking riddance.”_

Sometimes that image of Donghyuck at his most acerbic is the last thing that pops into Mark’s mind before he finds fitful sleep.

_“—ark. Mark Lee. MARK!”_

A familiar bark of alarm drags Mark back to the present, as does a large hand strongly wrapped around one of his wrists.

“You’re hurting yourself.”

It’s Johnny, one of their Beaters and also one of the people Mark considers himself actually close to on this team. They share a lot in common, both halfbloods born in North America and raised speaking English, which is probably why it was easiest to come to trust the tall, strong Beater before the others.

“Good.” Mark mutters numbly, looking at his hand, much smaller than Johnny’s around his wrist. Bloody knuckles, bloody sandbag. Good, he should be hurt.

“You know Seulgi would have your head if she knew you were doing unauthorized training… and so poorly too.” Johnny mutters, the content of his reprimand somewhat at odds with his tenderness as he grabs Mark’s other wrist and pulls him away from the sandbag.

Mark has nothing to say to this, unable to meet Johnny’s sincere and affectionate gaze.

“I won’t tell. I just…” Johnny sighs, dropping his hold on Mark to run his fingers through his dark brown hair in a rush of anxiety. He’s a very good person and all of 127 are remarkable people, but that’s just _not_ what Mark wants right now. “When you get like this… I worry. We all do.”

“Like _this_ , huh?” Mark deadpans, turning away from Johnny with an immature scoff. He knows he’s being a dick but petulance is the only thing he can seem to feel at the moment besides sick, sick guilt.

He shouldn’t feel guilty—this league works via poaching, loves shuffling players every season in order to circulate talent at this level. Mark had his future to think about and 127s offer was better than anything he ever dreamed and certainly doesn’t think he deserved. He’s a starting Chaser along with Taeyong and Yuta, he’s being groomed to become 127s next leader, his contract bonus alone was enough to buy his mother a new house back in Vancouver. This is exactly how his future as an athlete is supposed play out so why does it feel so fucking _awful?_

“Joy didn’t need to deliver the news so… businesslike.” Johnny sighs, and Mark still can’t meet his eyes.

Joy is 127s General Manager, an intelligent and sarcastic woman with a snappy sense of humor who normally treats 127 with a warmth that doesn’t match her professional shrewdness. She deals with the day-to-day managerial duties of a professional Quidditch team, orchestrating scrimmages, ordering new equipment, basically all the busy tasks that Irene doesn’t want to do. At this morning’s daily meeting she rather callously gave a report on some of the teams 127 have their eye on or consider to be rivals, ending quite obviously with a soulless, _“and finally, DREAM was unable to find a suitable Chaser from their recent tryouts.”_

“ _Businesslike_.” Mark imitates Johnny lamely before stripping off the tape around his knuckles and fingers with a wince and a sharp hiss. There’s more blood than he expected and his hands shake as he looks at them. “Well, it _is_ a business, isn’t it.”

He crouches down and reaches into his bag for more tape to wrap himself up with, but Johnny beats him to it, grabbing the tape and lightly forcing Mark to sit down cross legged along with him in order to wrap up his hands himself. “Hey, I got you.”

Johnny is better at this, especially when Mark is still shaking, still withdrawn into his self-loathing. He’s not normally like this—Mark really has come to see 127 as his brothers and the coaches and managers as scary, cool aunts. It’s an absolute thrill to play with a team so well-rounded and formidable as 127, and as each day goes by Mark finds his identity and allegiance shifting to where it now needs to be. He knows he made the right choice joining them but sometimes, when he stumbles on a reminder of Donghyuck or DREAM (or, hell, the color orange is enough to trigger) he can’t find it in himself to be happy or proud about his new lot in life. So, hearing Joy discuss DREAM like they’re just another struggling team was enough to kick him straight into this current downward spiral.

“I got you.” Johnny repeats softly, starting to wrap his hands, finger by finger. He’s _much_ better at this than Mark is, and gentler too.

“T-thanks.” Mark appreciates it, he really does. But he’s also embarrassed that he needs to be handled so softly when he’s like this. “I should be over it by now, huh...”

Johnny twists his face as though someone slipped him a sour candy and thinks carefully about his answer. “No, I don’t think you need to be. Ever, really. You can be happy to play with us and still long for what you had before. You’re allowed to feel more than one thing at a time, even if those feelings butt heads.”

He’s absolutely fucking right and if it were coming from anyone other than Johnny Mark would actually scoff at how spot on the observation is and discontinue the conversation. But it _is_ Johnny, so, “They couldn’t find a new Chaser.”

Johnny just hums and nods, continuing his gentle work.

“It’ll be Jisung.” Mark says quietly, surprised he’s actually talking about this. “Jisung can play any position and it's kind of insane but he and Chenle are so, _so_ good together. A-and then there's Renjun—”

“Oh, the little one?” Johnny humors. “He’s really good, he’ll hold it together.”

“He _is._ ” Mark whispers, shutting his eyes tightly. “No one fucking _gets_ that. I mean, it's not like you guys did.”

“We did.” Johnny admits, glossing over the fact that Mark still refers to his new team as 'you guys’. “And by we, I mean the Furies.”

He doesn’t use ‘Furies’ in any derogatory way, it’s just what 127 happens to call their collected coaches and managers, mainly because the fact that Irene hates men is strangely in keeping with the Furies of Ancient Greece bearing the same sentiment. Seulgi, their physical trainer, is a better athlete than the entire team and despite being able to kick all of their asses, would never. Joy, their GM, is terrifying once she gets into her business stride but loves to cavort with 127 and can drink the majority of them under a table. Wendy is their healer and physical therapist whose treatments are borderline barbaric but work absolute wonders. Then there’s Yeri, the scariest after Irene, the Beater trainer who despite her size is somehow better at the position than both Johnny and Jaehyun combined.

“They have dossiers on all of DREAM. The Coach too.” Johnny continues, telling Mark something he already knows but definitely needs to hear right now. “You were just... ready.”

Immediately Mark opens his mouth to ring in with a glowing compliment for Donghyuck when a pattern of knocks sounds on the door to the gym. Jungwoo, their Keeper, opens the door and pokes his blonde head in with a small, “Um…?”

Mark stiffens in Johnny’s hold and the Beater stops wrapping his fingers without finishing and lifts them both into a standing position. Knowing Mark is vulnerable Johnny faces Jungwoo, using his bulk to block the smaller man as he addresses the Keeper. “‘Sup, little pup?”

Little isn’t quite the word to describe Jungwoo but he smiles at the nickname all the same. “I, uh, I mean... I can see you, Mark. Johnny’s not _that_ big.”

Arguable, but Mark takes a step to the side in order to be more properly seen.

“You have a visitor.” Jungwoo smiles prettily with a little shrug. He’s as new to 127 as Mark is but has found it much easier to adapt to the situation and always surprises people—opponents, coaches, his own teammates—by how tall he really is. Jungwoo is constantly underestimated because of the difference between his outward demeanor and his athletic prowess and he totally knows it.

Since he’s currently in the mood for it Mark can’t help but compare him to Renjun, another player outstandingly more capable than he appears and well aware of the fact. _Fuck_.

“Uh. Who is it?” Mark asks lamely.

“I don’t know, I just kind of just bumped into him?” Jungwoo tilts his head with a laugh. “Tallish, pretty black hair. He has a broom with him.”

 _Doyoung…?_ flits through Mark’s head but he shakes the thought out. His old Coach is ranked at a hot number two on his list of people he can’t handle seeing right now and further, why on earth would he be here with a broomstick? Oh, right, probably because Mark ceremoniously (read: guiltily) left his _Nightmare Z_ behind when he left DREAM.

“Oh. Oh shit.” Mark wrings his hands, wincing as he exacerbates his wounds. “I… fuck. No. What? Fair skinned, kind of awkward? Did he smile at you?”

Jungwoo laughs once. “Yes to all of that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many teeth in my entire life.”

It’s definitely Doyoung.

“Who is it?” Johnny asks, but Mark doesn’t answer in lieu of asking his own question.

“Where is he now?”

Jungwoo shifts his weight and balances a hand on his hip. “He was just wandering the halls. I don’t think he’s authorized to be here, actually, but… he got in? I have him waiting in the meditation room.”

“The m-meditation… ah.” Mark sputters. Of _course_ he would be made to wait in one of their more superfluous rooms, as though Doyoung (and Mark, for that matter) needed to be faced with another example of the difference between DREAMs and 127s resources. It's not like Jungwoo would have known that though. “How long has he been here?”

“There? About five minutes. Here? Not sure.” Jungwoo shrugs easily, leaning against the doorframe. “Again, I do not think he’s allowed to be here but I don’t really know how he could have gotten in otherwise, so…?”

127s training facility is well warded, guarded, protected, everything possible to keep their tactics hidden from their opponents. Kim Doyoung, however, is one of the most competent wizards Mark has ever known, full stop. If anyone could break in, it’s him.

 _Or Jaemin_ , his traitorous mind supplies. _Fuck_.

“I… gotta go.” He slings his bag over his shoulder and is almost out the door when he skids to a halt and turns back to a bewildered Johnny to explain. “It’s my old Coach.”

Johnny’s face lights up in understanding and he waves Mark out. “Yes, get your butt out of here.”

Mark and Jungwoo leave together but they don’t get far enough not to hear Johnny shouting, _“And get your hands checked out by Wendy after, you little shit!”_

“Old Coach, huh?” Jungwoo asks, slowing his gait to match Mark’s shorter strides as they lope towards the meditation room one floor above.

“... yeah,” is all Mark can say to that.

Jungwoo picks up on the mood and halts abruptly, causing Mark to do the same. Laughing at this, Jungwoo waves him on with a lovely smile. “You go do you. If you’re feeling up to it, thank him for coaching such an incredible Chaser.”

Mark is not going to do that but packs the compliment into his heart nonetheless as he rushes forward, throwing the Keeper a salute as he rounds the corner to the stairs and takes them two at a time. He skids out of the staircase and finds the meditation room two mere meters away.

 _Okay. Okay. You got this._ Mark tells himself, grabbing the door handle. His last thought before pushing open the door is:

_Try not to cry._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi yes sorry yukhei hasnt even debuted yet but boooooy thats next chapter. i wrote way more mark pov than i could control so lol cliffhanger just WAIT for him and doyoungs meeting oh boy oh BOY. also red velvet is perfection they gotta be in this too heh.
> 
> also still a little nervous for writing nct idk idk i love you all and dont worry, yukhei is pretty much the point of the next chapter, get ready for some Goof
> 
> (also i have a [twitter!](https://twitter.com/jenoscreamingo))


	4. a case of the Renjun Crazies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't fly when you're weighed down by guilt and you can't find peace if you leave your duckling behind. Maybe brooms don't choose the wizard, but they sure as shit come to love them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how do you pronounce 'angst'? is it 'forgiveness' or 'fluff'? i never know because angst isn't in my dictionary guys, sorry
> 
> i finally get to touch on dotae hahahHEHHhhhuu
> 
> long chapter because apparently i love both mark and lucas pov too much to stop
> 
> thanks to everyone whos comment'd and kudo'd and read'd and followed'd~!
> 
> .

The meditation room is the brainchild of an unlikely pair, Wendy and Taeyong. The former demanded a space for the players that would allow them to slip into a meditative state before their matches so they would have a better chance of reaching 'flow' while playing. It’s been considered by many magical sports journalists that the reason 127 is one of the best teams in the league is because they exercise the most mental control over their gameplay. The meditation room provides the coaches and players with a space to clear their heads, strengthen their hearts, and find calm before totally going _off_ in their games. Wendy is well aware of the science behind meditation and expounds upon the ideas at any given moment.

Then there’s Taeyong who, in the words of Yuta, quite simply “lives for this shit.” Which he does, and ends up making use of the meditation room at least twice as often as the rest of them. Taeyong must have had the time of his life designing the room and embracing the ideas behind it, so much so that Mark wishes he would have been there to see its creation. When their captain finds a creative outlet he evolves into the cutest thing on the planet—equally as capable as he is on the field and either vicious or bubbly in the pursuit of his vision.

If Taeyong wasn’t an athlete he could probably make a name for himself in interior design. Or cooking, or flower arranging, or pretty much anything that requires love, precision, and artistic sensibility.

The meditation room is square, with light wooden paneling on the ceiling and a slightly elevated stage in the middle. Soft golden light filters from under the stage, illuminating naturally without overwhelming the eye. Everything was conceived and paid for by Taeyong out of his own (admittedly deep) pockets but nothing in the room feels gaudy or luxurious, instead favoring a simple, high-quality aesthetic. You don’t need flash when you have Taste.

Apart from the wooden stage, beams, and ceiling, there is a series of square, firm meditation cushions, charcoal grey with light, barely-there golden threading. They match the indoor slippers neatly arranged beneath the slightly risen stage. It smells both fresh and incense-heavy, probably because on top of muggle incense burners in each corner, Taeyoung himself brings in fresh flower arrangements that he takes it upon himself to change weekly. There’s a low, wooden table at the farthest end from the door with fresh water and glasses, mirrors to facilitate energy flow, and a magical phonograph softly issuing soothing tones.

Mark doesn’t actually understand any of this shit, but just being able to see the outwardly sharp Taeyong go starry-eyed talking about feng shui and ikebana is a marvel in of itself.

It’s a lovely space even to Mark’s eye, although the sophistication is slightly marred at the moment by a stiff, confused man who cannot seem to figure out how to sit cross-legged without breaking himself. Round glasses rest on his thin nose, in keeping with a stylish muggle outfit of a black trench coat over white fitted turtleneck and black trousers. The borrowed slippers do not match the look in the slightest. A _Nightmare Z_ lies on the floor in front of him and suddenly Mark cannot breathe.

Doyoung hasn’t looked at him yet but he knows he’s here. “You know, I understand the science of it.”

“Sci… ence?” Mark strings together, tugging on the unattached tape on his forefinger. He tries to finish wrapping but finds his hands shaking too much to do a good job of it.

Finally his old Coach looks up, a thoughtful clarity in his eyes. “A meditation room. A place with the sole function of finding inner peace and clarity. I understand it. I’m kind of happy that sweet Keeper of yours brought me over so we can do this here.”

'This' is so far not going the way he anticipated and Mark is so thrown he forgets how nauseous he felt when he entered. Doyoung smiles toothily, familiarly, and with tremendous effort drags another pillow in front of the broom and pats it invitingly. “Sit?”

After awkwardly kicking off his training shoes and putting on a pair of meditation slippers Mark sits, bewildered. His broom ( _old_ broom, damn it) flops a bit as he approaches and Mark almost reaches for it without thinking before retracting his hand and sitting down on the cushion with a curious tilt of his head. The broom quiets down between them.

“Meditation, flow state, mental fortitude, all of that makes sense to me. As does the value of having and properly maintaining a space like this in order to emphasize inner peace. Not just peace though, a place to overcome struggle by the virtue of your own heart and mind.” Doyoung looks around the room appreciatively. “I’m also pretty sure I know who designed it, but that’s its own thing.”

That’s strangely mysterious coming from someone as straightforward and honest as Doyoung. Mark is just plainly confused now. “Okay…?”

“I also understand how important it is for an athlete to reach an unburdened state in order to reach their potential. Carrying misery will weigh you to the ground faster than a backpack of bludgers.”

His broom shakes again. Mark’s hand twitches again.

“You know about ducks?” Doyoung jumps tracks completely, his eyes darting to the sloppy tape around Mark’s finger. His hand twitches with an aborted gesture, as though he instinctively wanted to fix it for him but decided against it. 

What. “D-ducks?”

“Ducklings imprint on the first thing they see, most often their mother. It’s a survival mechanism and also very cute. A powerful bond is created, unable to be severed. The duckling is hurt by the absence of the mother.” Doyoung explains, eyes drifting to the _Nightmare Z_ and back up again.

“Are you the mother in this analogy? Or wai—”

Doyoung cuts him off with a laugh. “— _You’re_ the mother duck, Mark, and this broom is your duckling.”

The broom shakes again.

“Look, its wiggling. It’s happy to see you.”

“Because it imprinted on me?” Mark requires clarity here. “Brooms aren’t wands… they don’t _pick_ you.”

Doyoung raises his eyebrows into the stratosphere. “Don’t tell me you actually believe that?”

“I…” The more Mark thinks about it, the more he realizes he doesn’t believe his own words. He hasn’t been flying as well since joining 127, and while that’s the result of many complicated things in his head and heart, the fact that he’s also missing his broom suddenly becomes clear.

He also remembers that one time he tried to ride Donghyuck’s broom and it bucked him off almost immediately. And then he remembers Hyuck.

“I tried to ride it the other day and oh _boy_ that was a bad idea. It knew. The broom is yours, Mark. Just like you’re… its. If you don’t take it back I’m going to burn it. Right here in front of you.” Doyoung’s expression turns cold. He means it.

Mark opens his mouth and closes it immediately. He wants that broom back more than anything but it was his chosen penance to leave it with DREAM. Still, the pull of the broom proves to be too much and he finally wraps his fingers slowly around the handle, warm and vibrating in hand even through the layers of tape. Mark's heart _lifts_ on contact with it, he physically feels better touching the broom and the strangeness of that notion causes him to laugh oddly.

It belongs in his hand. It belongs with him. He understands that now. “Thank you, Doyoung, I don’t even know what to say.”

Doyoung’s smile is back, threatening to burst out of his face. “Well, you _could_ admit you’re a mother duck.”

He laughs brightly, bringing the broom on his lap. “I am a mother duck,” Mark says proudly before addressing the (his) _Nightmare Z,_ “and you are my duckling.”

“Don’t make me burn your duckling.” Doyoung smiles sweetly, a little sadly.

Mark brings the threatened broom closer to his chest, eyes wide in fear. “Don’t you _dare_. I accept it. Again.”

“Which! Brings! Me! Back! To! Burdens!” Doyoung claps to punctuate, jumping tracks again. “About being in a peaceful state, about finding harmony in mind, body, soul. Guilt is a heavy burden and it’s just _radiating_ off of you. I can smell it over the sage and patchouli.”

A bit of an overreach in terms of a comprehensive segue, but Doyoung seems to be in a goofy mood today so Mark decides to roll with it. “It doesn’t feel good. Well, better now,” he hums sweetly to his broom, “but… yeah.”

Doyoung nods. “I care about you and your future and your big, sweet heart so on top of returning _your_ broom I’m here to tell you something very important and absolutely true.”

Uh oh. Mark girds himself because Doyoung's speeches are always well phrased and powerful and Mark doesn’t know if he can get out of this without crying.

Doyoung claps once. “We forgive you. And we are going to destroy you.”

Unable to help himself, Mark lets out a single bark of a laugh and all his tension with it. The honesty and simplicity of the statements break his brain and all he can feel now is a rush of warmth and goodwill. It’s the broom, it’s the man in front of him, it’s the golden memories of DREAM that don’t have to be the nightmares they have been.

“Let me say it in English: _We forgive you. And we are going to destroy you_.” He repeats in his competent, accented English.

“Bring it on.” Mark rises to the challenge, his heart beating hard.

His noxious guilt, the self-loathing and sick need for penance are holding him back from his future. Doyoung’s (DREAM’s) forgiveness isn’t enough to siphon all those dark feelings away at once but he _is_ giving Mark permission to heal, permission he didn’t know he needed or deserved.

Doyoung brushes off his hands and awkwardly rises from his seated position, careening slightly as he finds his balance. “Well! That’s that.”

He begins to leave and Mark springs into a stand, one hand grabbing Doyoung by the back of his coat. “W-wait, that’s all? What about the kids? I—uh, I mean…”

His old coach turns to face Mark with a sad smile. “You really want to know?”

Of _course._ “I really do.”

“Hmm… they’re healing. They picked themselves up and brushed themselves off. Now they’re in a process of recreation.” Doyoung admits with a proud grin. “We’re not there yet but… we will be. We’re going to come back stronger. Stronger than you and,” he weakly gestures to the beautiful meditation room, “ _this_.”

There’s a bit of resentment there but it’s directed at 127, not Mark himself. “Who’s the new Captain?”

“Captains. Plural.” Doyoung smiles. “Renjun and Jeno splitting the burden.”

Mark blinks. “Oh. Wow, yeah. That’s _totally_ going to work. I… whoa, I didn’t even _think_ of that.”

Doyoung wiggles his hands excitedly. “I know, right? Like, how did I miss that? They decided almost immediately and everyone is perfectly pleased with the arrangement.”

“That’s great. That’s just _great_.” Mark says dumbly, thinking about it more. “Like Jeno has that calming kind of _blerp_ energy and Renjun’s brain is an entire universe, they’re going to be really good together.”

“They already are. They sensed immediately that none of the Chasers at tryouts were going to work out, so now—”

“—oh shit, finally Jisung as Chaser?” Mark finishes quickly. “He and Chenle raining hell together? I can’t fucking _wait_ to see it.”

“Language, kid.” Doyoung smiles fondly. “But yes, that’s the new angle we’re taking. We need a Keeper, which I think will be easier than finding a fitting Chaser anyway.”

Mark nods. “That’s a great idea. I… hm.”

“You know of any?” Doyoung reads Mark’s sudden thoughtfulness correctly.

“Yeah, actually?” Mark tilts his head. “We almost hired him this season but went with Jungwoo in the end. Probably because he was eighty times too loud for Irene to put up with, but on paper the reason was ‘high risk, high reward’ and 127 just doesn’t play that way.”

Doyoung snorts. “And we do?”

“Um, does the name Na Jaemin ring a bell?” Mark snarks before pausing, trying to piece together why he gets the feeling that Wong Yukhei would be a good fit for DREAM.

“He’s an absolute greenhorn, like, he doesn’t even know all the rules of the game. No professional experience but high aptitude and great athletic ability just like Jaem, and we all know how that worked out.” Mark smiles, thinking about Jaemin and Jeno for a moment.

Humming to himself, Doyoung nods and gestures for Mark to continue.

“He’s absorbing everything really well and speaks a thousand languages so you know he’s intelligent and I think Renjun would see that and flock to it. Then there's Jisung, so even-tempered he’d be able to coach him, and Yukhei is so good natured he’d let himself be mentored by a child. God, what else…?”

Doyoung beams.

“Chenle and him, oh man, it’d just be a riot, they’re both hilarious. I guess Jeno might be the only wildcard here, but he gets along with everyone and his patience would compliment Renjun’s fire when they’re training him.”  

Mark tries not to think about Donghyuck challenging him and his humor and Yukhei both loving it and giving it back in kind. He also tries not to think about how Donghyuck once said that his ideal type is someone kind and goofy and hard-working and that's just what Yukhei _is_. Not to mention tall. So, so tall.

“Plus, he’d adore _you_. He loves anyone well-spoken and honest and emotionally awakened, like you should have seen his eyes bug out when he listened to Yuta…” Mark nods. “I think he’s worth a look. I actually think Wong Yukhei could totally work out for you guys.”

Doyoung is nice enough not to bring up the fact that Mark’s musings omitted a key player. “I have to admit, I’m a little surprised by how excited you are for us.”

Mark blushes. “W-well, uh, yeah of course I am? I love all of them. You too, Coach.”

“You don’t get to call me Coach anymore.” Doyoung teases.

“You too, Bro.” He corrects with a teasing grin.

“Nope, that's _much_ worse. But I love you too.” It’s such a natural utterance that Mark’s spirits lift even higher. Forgiveness, huh? What a concept.

“Wow, I’d like to keep catching up but I should probably get out of here before your scary Coach finds out I broke in.” Doyoung says apologetically.

Mark blanches, memories of Irene’s incredible magical skills flooding him with well-deserved trepidation. “She’s not scary but… yeah, she’ll murder you. How did you even get in?”

“Just a bit of magical tomfoolery.” Doyoung leaves it at that.

Mark gapes. “You scare me sometimes.”

“Good. But it’s not me you should fear.” Doyoung’s wand tip illuminates with an unspoken _lumos_ , casting his features into spooky shadows. “It’s your old team. Or, I should say, your new nightmare.”

Laughing lightly, Mark rolls his eyes. “You think we’re going to be that easy to beat?”

“Not at all.” Doyoung admits with a shrug and a smile, breaking his scary expression and cancelling his light spell. “But we’re going to have a great fucking time doing it.”

 _What._ “D-did you just… swear? Was that bad language that came flying out of your mouth?” Mark asks, utterly surprised.

Doyoung raises a finger to his smiling lips in a _shush_ motion. “Don’t tell the kids. But I really do have to be going. I’ll look into this Keeper, see if we can handle the decibels.”

“I… okay. Thank you, Doyoung. So much.” Mark starts, jumping at the abrupt end of the conversation. “For the broom. For the updates. For forgiving me—”

“You were always forgiven, Mark.” Doyoung interrupts. “You just needed to hear it.”

After shaking off the borrowed slippers and putting his own shoes back on, he turns on his heel to leave but stops himself mid-twist. “Ah, well… full-transparency, Donghyuck hasn’t forgiven you.”

Suddenly Mark’s heart is in his throat.

“But he will.”

Donghyuck is finally brought up and Mark is paralyzed. “You… really think so?”

With an understanding smile Doyoung turns back to him and wraps the smaller man in a tight hug. “I really do.”

The embrace is cut short by Doyoung stiffening, goosebumps rising along his neck and arms. That’s a magical sensation if Mark has ever seen once before. “Oh dear. She definitely knows I’m here. I really do have to get going because I think she’s good enough to seal my magical escape hatch.”

“Okay, yeah, get out of here. If you guys end up dueling…”

“I’ll match her level, force a draw.” Doyoung smiles strangely and Mark doesn’t know whether he’s being honest or not. The Wizard Doyoung is completely incongruous with the Coach Doyoung and suddenly Mark wishes he could have gotten to know him better before all of this.

Still, something has shifted between them. Their relationship dynamic has a different color now, something more mature, closer to equal terms than they’ve ever been. Now that Doyoung is no longer in a true position of authority maybe Mark actually has the chance to get to know Doyoung for real, as a person. It’s kind of exciting.

Shoes back on, Doyoung claps Mark on the shoulder with a soft grin before neatly applying a disillusionment charm with a tap of his want to his forehead. Over the space of a few seconds rippling semi-transparency cascades over his body, leaving him visible only if he moves. Sneaky bastard.

“Good luck, Mark.” Comes Doyoung’s voice from the not-quite-invisibility. “Please forgive yourself and rise to your potential. It won’t be any fun beating you if you aren’t at your best.”

Mark nods strongly in the direction of the blur, smiling when it shifts and Doyoung’s outline becomes vaguely apparent as he moves to the door. It opens spookily and is about to close again when Mark remembers something extremely important stewing in the journal he always carries in his sports bag.

“Ah! Fuck, wait. Doyoung, I need…” Mark falters, chewing on his lips as he decides what to do.

The door stays open, letting Mark know Doyoung has stopped to listen.

A few weeks ago Mark wrote a letter to Donghyuck, one he never intended to send. Something he turns back to every week or so as a reminder of his pain. A reminder of pain _and_ love, emotions and memories and everything he feels about him (about _them_ ) that he couldn’t quite express before and certainly didn’t think he ever could now.

Maybe he should just send the fucking letter.

“I need you to, er, well, I would _like_ it if you might deliver something to Donghyuck from me.” Mark already has his notebook out and flips haphazardly through the pages for the one he needs.

“Ohh?” Doyoung questions, and Mark can barely see him come back into the meditation room. “Of course. Quickly though, I really have to make scarce.”

Mark tears the page out of the book, folds it in thirds, and then puts the folded letter in his mouth while he scours his gym bag for his wand. Finally locating it, he conjures a fitting envelope, takes the letter out of his mouth and slips it inside. With a small wave of his wand he seals the envelope with a splotch of blood red wax and with a small flick stamps it with an ‘M’.

“Cute.” Mutters the semi-visible Doyoung. “You should have made the wax into a little heart.”

Gritting his teeth Mark blushes, knowing he’s not quite skillful enough to have done that anyway. He holds the letter out for Doyoung to take. “Here. And don’t you dare read it.”

“I would never. I want to, but would never. When should I give it to him?”

Oh, Mark hadn’t really thought of that. If Donghyuck is currently in an unforgiving state he should wait a little. “Maybe when he cools off a bit? When things settle, when you get your Keeper, or just… at your discretion.”

“I understand.” The envelope is tugged lightly out of Mark’s hand and he feels a shift of air as Doyoung moves towards the door again. “He _will_ forgive you, Mark. When the time comes whatever you have written here will surely help.”

“I hope so.”

Doyoung laughs once. “Don’t hope so, _know_ so. I’ll see you later, Mark, hopefully before DREAM beats your little butt.”

Mark nods, feeling another burden leave his heart with the sending of the letter. “Get out of here before the Furies descend upon you.”

“Aye-aye, once and future Captain.”

The door closes with a soft snap and Mark lets out a deep, long breath. That was more _and_ less than he expected this run-in to go—more love than he could have ever dreamed and less pain than he thought he deserved.

Mark slips back into his sneakers and exits the meditation room with a spring in his step he barely recognizes as himself, prized broom in hand. This bounce takes him down the hall and around a corner where he skips right past the very conspicuous form of Lee Taeyong, fully pressed against the wall right at the mouth of the corner. He's not close enough to have been listening in on the meditation room but is definitely still suspicious.

“Ah, Taeyong, um?” Mark skids to a halt two steps past Taeyong and backtracks with a small hop. “What are you, uh… what’re you doing, hyung?”

Taeyong looks absolutely _caught_ , his huge eyes bugging out as he braces his palms against the wall and leans further into it as though perhaps it might absorb him away from Mark’s discovery. “Uhhmm? Just, uh...”

“Did you, um.” Mark falters. His relationship with Taeyong is good, brotherly even, but sometimes Mark just doesn’t know how to interact with his Captain when he’s doing something weird like this. “Were you listening? To that?”

“No! No, no, not at all.” Taeyong’s ears burn red and he waves his hands quickly in front of his chest, still leaning back against the wall. “Just, you know, hanging.”

Mark nods, confused. First Doyoung’s goofiness, now Taeyong’s… whatever this is. Why are all his hyungs acting so wonky today? “Oh… kay.”

Taeyong’s gaze drops to the _Nightmare Z_ in Marks hand and opens his mouth in a silent little, _ah._ A moment later he spots Mark’s poorly wrapped finger and tutts. “Oh my god, you child. Here, let me—”

For the second time that day, a treasured hyung takes Mark’s hand and busies himself with wrapping it up properly. He’s even better at it than Johnny, screwing up his nose as he works. “Hmph, you’d think Doyoung would have done this himself as soon as he noticed…”

“Uh, what?” Mark blurts out, hand still in his Captain’s. Do they know each other? No. What? No way.

Taeyong tries to cover but it’s easy to see through. “I mean, any good Coach would have. Ex or not.”

Holy mother of What. Mark matches Doyoung’s, _‘I’m also pretty sure I know who designed it’_ to Taeyong’s _‘Doyoung would have done this himself’_ and has an entire OH moment.

“Do you two know each other?”

Taeyong blanches, as if that was possible when you are as naturally fair skinned as he is. “No, nope, we do not.”

Feeling courageous, Mark raises a whole eyebrow incredulously. “You _do_ know each other.”

Now Taeyong blushes. “We… did.”

Holy shit, there is a whole history here, Mark can sense it. Something deep and uncommunicated. Something he recognizes immediately in himself and a certain Seeker. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

With a small huff Taeyong snaps out of his cute mode and straight into the sharpness of the Captain he knows well by now. “Because apparently it didn’t matter then and sure as shit doesn’t matter now.”

 _Uh oh, back off_. Mark touched a nerve but it’s apparent to both of them that he will be aware of the fact from now on. “Sorry Captain, I’m just surprised. Of course we all have our own histories and the right to keep them to ourselves. Sorry I pried.”

“Very diplomatic of you.” Taeyong shoots him a fragile smile. Somehow Mark knows Taeyong ends the compliment with the hidden thought, _Doyoung taught you well._

“So, uh, what’s up?” Mark breaks the tension with a shrug and a smile.

Taeyong pushes off the wall and begins to lead Mark down the hall. “Team meeting in ten.”

“Does it have anything to do with the fact that my ex-Coach broke in?”

Taeyong laughs. “Who knows, Irene may have him chained to a wall by now.”

 _Doubt it_ , Mark thinks, smiling to himself.

He feels stronger, faster, better. Mark feels like himself, but not what he has been lately and not what he was with DREAM. 127’s newest Chaser Lee Mark picks up his pace and walks side-by-side with his Captain, _Nightmare Z_ in hand and light in his heart.

 

. . . . . . .

 

Quidditch is terrifying.

Yes it’s fun, the most fun, but he’s also never felt fear quite like this. No matter how many goals he blocks or how much confidence he builds, Yukhei always feels a lick of terror when he sees an opposing Chaser line up for a shot. There’s this moment, a single moment when their eyes shift from general field awareness to him, suddenly focused and inimical. One moment when Yukhei is both thrilled and afraid of what’s about to come.

Then the moment passes, the Chaser shoots (or passes, or holds, or backtracks... they really have so many options it’s kind of unfair) and Yukhei simply reacts. With an arm or a leg, with his head, with his chest. Hell, he even blocked a goal with his ass once. The fear of the moment fuels his automatic reactions, more reflexive than intentional.

And here’s the weird part: his reflexes happen to be spot on more often than not. _Way_ more often than not.

The speedy, vicious Chaser (Chocho, something like that?) swings around the lanky one (Jesus? No…) and is suddenly five meters away from his goalposts, eyes shining. The moment of fear strikes, then passes, and Yukhei rather easily snags the screaming line drive of a shot on his left goal out of the air with a little laugh of victory. Sure, his palm stings, slapped hard by the quaffle even through his leather keeping gloves, but pain is always worth it if he can save a goal.

Chocho growls and mutters something to Jesus before speeding off, leaving the taller to nod at Yukhei in mild approval. That’s nice of him. Yukhei can’t really help but smile back, feeling a strange sense of camaraderie he hasn’t gotten from the other two Chasers so far. Then again, it’s not like he’s on the team or actually knows any of them.

Yet.

Wong Yukhei is currently in the middle of a private tryout for the DREAM Quidditch team and, in his humble opinion, is _killing_ it. Not to say he didn’t perform well when he tried out for 127, but that process was awkward for him, more structured and mentally exacting than he would have liked. Quidditch is supposed to be fun and free—they’re _flying_ for fuck’s sake—and the 127 tryout gauntlet sucked all the fun out of it.

But _this_. Oh, this is much better. Yukhei’s tryout began with DREAMs Coach (Doughnut? No way that’s right…) smiling wide and innocently before turning to his players and instructing them to simply rain hell on him in goal in order to feel him out.

Well the joke’s on Doughnut because free play is where he excels.

Even the Beaters and Seeker are shooting at his goals, and the dark-haired one (Gene?) is actually pretty good at it. He and the other Beater (James, he’s pretty sure about that one) have been working in concert, tossing multiple quaffles simultaneously to see how well he’ll react.

The pretty Seeker soon joins the ridiculous gang-up. Luckily he (forgot his name completely, he’s nicknamed him Sunny) has a bad throwing arm and somehow Yukhei manages to block all three quaffles at once. James, Gene, and Sunny laugh at the ridiculous saves and Yukhei can’t help but join in which of course causes all four of them to cackle harder.

Doughnut nods approvingly at this, trying to keep a smile off his face.

Yukhei is having a blast. The bolt of fear when someone lines up for a shot still strikes each time and leaves just as quickly, whether it’s the predictable Chocho linedrives or Sunny’s terrible shots. The fright is manageable because Yukhei knows it’ll pass, that it _always_ passes.

But then there’s the final Chaser. Renjun. Whenever Renjun gets into throwing form the alarm that rises in his heart never leaves. Ever. Every single shot of Renjun’s has gotten past him. Every. Single. One.

But that’s not why Yukhei doesn’t want to go up against him.

That’s not why he remembers his name from the start.  

The Co-Captain flies with grace and precision, so lovely Yukhei can’t help but be distracted by it. His passes are somehow quick _and_ gentle, his feints put a ballerina to shame, and his shots…

Another shot sings through Yukhei’s hands, straight into the middle hoop, a left-hook so elegant it’s _unreal_. Renjun’s shots can have an uplift, a downturn, can hook in from any direction. He can even throw a corkscrew, which makes absolutely zero sense. The quaffle comes to life in his hands, as if made sentient by the sheer quality of his skill.

“Fucking _hell_.” Yukhei gapes, looking over at his shoulder at the hoop and then back to Renjun, who takes advantage of his surprise to throw another one, a perfect duplication of the first.

Yukhei doesn’t even bother to go for it, opting instead to try to find the words to describe how alarming it is to go up against the unpredictable Chaser. All he has is a jumble of Cantonese, English, and Korean tied together with profanity and exclamation marks.

“I… wait. What?” He blubbers, looking from Jesus to Sunny to James, who is now chuckling proudly. Yukhei then pulls a face of sheer confusion at Doughnut, who shrugs with a huge, slightly alarming grin.

The onslaught of quaffles stops at some unspoken cue and Chocho whistles in approval. “Oh man, look at his _face_.”

“Looks like someone caught a case of the Renjun Crazies...” James says knowingly, flying over to Yukhei and slapping him on the shoulder.

“C-crazies…?” Yukhei mutters lamely.

Sunny snorts. “Yeah, the ‘how the fuck, what the fuck, wait, uh, goddamn, what just happened?’ Renjun Crazies. We’ve all been there.”

“I…” _Come on, Yukhei, make word sounds with your face hole._ “There aren’t enough expletives in the world. I don’t even understand physics anymore. Did I ever?” Now his mouth is working, nice. “How did you do that? What did you even do?”

Renjun blushes at the commentary, suddenly shy. Yukhei can’t keep his eyes off him.

“You… you’re incredible.” He continues, starting a slow clap for him. “Un _real_. It’s like you’re not even playing Quidditch!”

“This is the worst case of Renjun Crazies I’ve ever seen…” Gene laughs goodnaturedly.

“Yeah, we may have to put him down.” Sunny adds and Yukhei laughs even though he just made a joke about killing him.

He’s struck with a sudden, overwhelming _need_ to join this team. He wanted to join 127, just like at the beginning of today he wanted to be in DREAM, but now? It’s a necessity, a gravitational pull. Renjun Crazies aside, the others are friendly and fun, full of a joy and energy that’s blowing his mind. This team seems held together by love and talent, by mutual respect and admiration. Yukhei wants in.

He saw a match of theirs last season, the first playoff match where Sunny caught the snitch in under twenty minutes. He’s heard tales of a DREAM game where the Beaters knocked out 4 opposing players, including the Seeker and both Beaters. There’s a rumor that 127 wants Jesus for themselves.

DREAM lacks the resources of the real powerhouses in the league, which may be why their seasons have thus far been lackluster. In fact, that might be the _only_ reason. Hot damn.

“I’ve seen enough.” Coach Doughnut says, clapping his hands once and flying closer to them. “Raise your hand if you think we’ve found our Keeper.”

 _W-wait, this is happening already? They’re deciding NOW?_ Yukhei’s eyes bug out and he takes stock of the other players.

Gene raises his hand along with Doughnut. Chocho’s shoots up in the air with a sharp squeal while Jesus raises his hand slowly. Sunny throws a fist in the air with a laugh, Renjun throws a little wave, and James finishes it off with a raised hand and a knowing smirk.

Yukhei raises his own hand for good measure, drawing laughter from them all. “I, uh… hi guys.”

“Welcome to the team, Wong Yukhei. We’re happy to have you.” The Coach says, holding out a hand for Yukhei to shake. “‘ _Someone who understands and appreciates Renjun’s skills_ ’ is literally the first item on the tryout checklist.”

The Chaser blushes with a little moan and Gene slings an arm over his shoulders, tugging him in with a bright, close-eyed grin. “Fucking embarrassing…” Renjun growls.

“Language, Captain.” James wags a finger before turning to Doughnut for approval. The Coach rolls his eyes at what Yukhei assumes is an inside joke.

“Is this… I mean…” Yukhei’s eyes meet Renjun’s and he loses his train of thought. “Okay then. Can I start making dream puns now?”

“Yes” James says at the same time Jesus mutters, “No.”

“Cool, I’m going to go with yes, sorry kid. Ahem. You guys are better than I ever DREAMed, no offense.” Yukhei starts. He cannot stop. “I’ve actually dayDREAMed about being a part of a team like this.”

They laugh. Yukhei likes that they laugh. If he already likes them this much, he’s probably going to have to learn their actual names. Also he should stop staring at Renjun before they rescind their offer. “I can’t believe you’ve been SLEPT on like this.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re going to be a NIGHTMARE?” Sunny joins in with a touch of playful snark.

“Come on, let's give him a chance. I mean look at that face, he’s totally DREAMy.” James flirts confidently and Yukhei can't help but blush.

Jesus just sighs.

“So what do we do now? Practice more?” Chocho asks the Coach, looking very displeased at the idea.

“Hm… well, I guess we celebrate our new Keeper.” Doughnut says. “Are you a drinking man, Yukhei?”

“I’m a thinking man.” He declares proudly, thumping himself on the chest. “Of _course_ I drink.”

Sunny rubs his hands together in excitement. “Game on, then."

DREAM starts to talk amongst themselves and Yukhei watches Renjun spin a quaffle on his finger as he laughs with James, who is trying to bop the ball away. That’s not jealousy creeping in his gut, right? He just wants to be able to make Renjun smile like that too, that’s all.

“Um, quickly…” Yukhei starts, a monstrous blush rising. “Can everyone, er, introduce themselves again? I’m certifiably awful with names…”

Sunny looks betrayed, James laughs brightly along with Gene, Chenle snorts, Jesus giggles behind his hand and Doughnut shakes his head fondly.

“I’m Renjun.” Renjun introduces, the only one he didn’t need an introduction for.

“Doyoung.” The Coach says, laughing to himself.

“I’m Jeno.” James says, and Gene lets out a wounded noise next to him. “Just kidding, _he’s_ Jeno.”

“And he’s Jaemin.” Jeno indicates James, needlessly overcomplicating the matter.

“I’m Chenle.” Chenle raises his hand in a high-five that Yukhei returns.

Sunny shoots him a smile as bright as his nickname. “Donghyuck.”

Last is the lanky Jesus. “Jisung.”

Yukhei points to himself. “Yukhei.”

“We know.” Doyoung, Jeno, and Renjun say as one.

Quidditch is still terrifying, but a little less so now that he’s found his DREAM team.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah a bit of a mess but im a mess sorry i just cant stop making dream jokes 
> 
> never thought id write the phrase "jesus giggles behind his hand" but in the wise words of kim doyoung, "the world is interesting"
> 
> love you all, thanks for reading, if you smiled or something cute like that please let me know below! and swing by ye olde [twittere](https://twitter.com/jenoscreamingo) if you dare
> 
> kudos and comments greatly appreciated~!


	5. all about them meat whistles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the debut of ponytail jaemin. that's all. 
> 
>  
> 
> just kidding there's also dirty laundry that gets rudely aired by a slippery man with a thousand letters in his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haven't covered this yet, but in this au every dreamie is of age (league age range is 20-30)
> 
> im talking about s e x but nothing explicit, chill out
> 
> sorry ive been bad at updating, ive been working on mysterious other things ohoooohoho
> 
>  
> 
> !

 

DREAM wraps up a blustery Thursday practice with an idiotic game of muggle dodgeball—no brooms, just six young men hurling quaffles at each other at close range with zero mercy and negative restraint. Hell, there are barely any rules besides ‘maybe try not to aim straight for the meat whistle?’, emphasis on _maybe_ because that’s Donghyuck’s number one target, always.

The thing about playing dodgeball on the grass like normal people is that the solid ground provides a stronger base from which to generate traction for the wind up to the throw. There are some rules that never break and general physics happens to be the same in both the magical world and the muggle one which means their throws are stronger and more accurate than they would be from broomback. This also means that if Yukhei or Jeno were to really go ham they could quite easily displace some important internal organs, but they are also the only two who would  _never_. 

Currently sidelined with the Elbow Ouchies, Jaemin is content simply to observe today’s battle—especially when Donghyuck’s aim rings surprisingly true and he nails Yukhei straight in the balls. The Keeper yelps, his voice cracking as he falls to his knees protecting his junk and is immediately assaulted by more quaffles to the face and to the solar plexus courtesy of Jisung and Jeno. Not only is Yukhei the tallest but he’s also the biggest by quite a margin and that’s probably why everyone more or less beats on him whenever they see an opening.

It’s chill though, Yukhei is definitely the type of guy who likes to be beat up which is what makes his e x t r e m e l y obvious crush on Renjun all sorts of cute. Jaemin can attest to Renjun’s fighting spirit both in the bedroom (heeeyo~) and out of it and since their bygone sexytimes ended amicably Jaemin can declare with all of his heart that the giant Keeper and the little Captain would be a great match. And a sexy one too, hot damn.

Across the field Doyoung has his arms crossed as he stands next to a slightly smaller man striking a fantastic but somehow perfectly casual pose as the two observe the dodge-bloodbath. That must be Doyoung’s sports reporter frenemy, the one with fifty thousand letters in his name and goes by the pen name Ten. He’s writing a profile on DREAM and is here to take some preliminary notes and get a feel for what he’ll be reporting on.

It’s actually quite fantastic because Ten’s reviews carry a lot of weight in the Asian Quidditch community—a good profile from him is a huge step towards more sponsorship and a stronger fanbase. Known for his flowery but shrewd prose, Ten can single-handedly make a team just as easily as he can slice and dice one down to size. It's not easy to impress him and hardly worth the endeavor to try because he sees right through any posturing and ego and gets to the heart of what makes a team tick or tock. He used to play for the Korean National Quidditch Team as Seeker before suffering a career-ending injury—something so severe not even magic could zip him up to the same level he was at before. He’s the best Quidditch reporter because he used to be one of the best _players_.

All of this information was fed to Jaemin through a fanboying Jeno, who apparently still has a poster of the team when Ten was playing for them and they got third in the World Cup. Jaemin is still new to the Quidditch world but it looks like this Ten fellow is a real powerhouse and he’s surprised such a celebrity is paying their team any attention, especially preseason.

But Doyoung works in mysterious ways and apparently he and Ten have something of a history, hence, ‘frenemies’.

A shriek rings from the Dreamies followed by a bellow, a series of giggles, and one very long, drawn out whine draws Jaemin’s attention back to his teammates and what he sees drags out an immediate bark of laughter. He doesn't know what he expected but what he observes is better than he could have ever imagined.

Yukhei has a furious and flaming-red Renjun slung over one shoulder while Chenle koala-hugs his torso from the side, working with Donghyuck tugging at Yukhei’s arm in order to unsuccessfully ‘rescue’ their Captain. On the side, Jisung cheers for Yukhei while Jeno rolls on the ground in laughter. Jaemin tilts his head, a wide smile breaking out as he mentally equates the sight with one large dog drowning in a puddle of puppies.

God, Jaemin loves this team. He’s definitely used up all his life's luck stumbling across their tryouts last season—finding Jeno, who completes a part of himself Jaemin didn’t know he was missing. Meeting all of them, and now Yukhei. His eyes drift back to Doyoung and Ten coming towards the fray and there’s something about the way the reporter walks that just screams _Seeker_. It’s a similar sway of the hips and lightness of foot he sees in Donghyuck and to a lesser extent, Chenle.

The Seeker swagger. Broken or not, Ten is a force.

“Hey— _hey!_ Get off the Keeper before you break him. I only _just_ signed his adoption papers... don't make me a bad parent!” Doyoung bellows, clapping loudly as he would if they actually were a pack of dogs.

The dogpile turns in scary unison to their coach and Jaemin stifles a laugh and joins their side, helping Jeno up from the grass. “Interview time, Cap’n.”

Jeno’s cheer drips from his face as he remembers what’s on their agenda. He might be their striking, headlining Captain but Jeno would rather bash his own head in with his club than speak for the team. Renjun is stronger in that arena, more comfortable bearing their soul to the world and much better at it to boot. Donghyuck is good in interviews as well but instead of taking the lead he prefers to listen, to wait for an opening to slip in something clever and hilarious that adds color and character to the discussion.

Last season his comedic inserts basically amounted to poking and prodding and teasing Mark for his gaffes but Jaemin isn't about to bring that to anyone's attention. Nobody has brought Mark up in a while actually, though he’s certain he pops up in their minds more often than any Dreamie will admit aloud.

A few locks of his cinnamon colored bangs flop into his eyes and Jaemin reaches behind his head to undo the tie currently holding the top of his hair back. He’s been growing out his hair since the start of the season and is still getting used to having to fix and maintain it during practice. It’s about an inch away from him being able to throw it all up in a bun or pony but for the moment he can only secure it in a small half-pony tuft or a high half-top knot. And because bobby-pins are still very new to him his bangs are pretty much always all over the place, always.

He flips it all out before retying it in a half-pony, neatly securing the hair and fixing it in place with confidence. In another moment Jaemin feels someone tug at the hairband and send it all tumbling out again. He rounds on the offender with a scoff only to see Jeno's wide, sneaky grin holding the tie high above his head. Jaemin tries to snatch at it but Jeno brings it further out of reach. Oho, looks like Jeno wants to flirt, huh.

Out of all the Dreamies Jeno likes Jaemin’s long hair the most and makes a point to tug on his buns and undo his ties and basically anything he can to touch it. Whenever Jaemin asks about his behavior Jeno either blushes or shrugs _and_ blushes, garbling some nonsensical reason that only makes sense to him. It’s cute, something Jaemin could easily tease him about but holds back for now, content just to let Jeno attempt to be sneaky in his desire to touch him.

Theirs is a relationship still pending, as ‘best friends’ solidified within a day, ‘partners’ has already been achieved and by Jaemin’s estimation they still have a few weeks, maybe months of sexual tension left to build up before that dam breaks and all deals are sealed. Jaemin isn’t going to rush it, _can’t_ rush someone like Jeno who has mastered the art of ‘one step forward, two steps back, and then fuck it let’s take four more steps back because safety first!’

But when the time comes Jaemin will happily indulge Jeno in what might be developing into a hair-pulling kink. The long hair campaign would be worth it for that alone.

After a bit of tickling and wrist-holding Jaemin snatches his band back from Jeno and ties his hair back up in a messy half-pony. Doyoung and Ten have reached them by now, the latter with a sly grin and the Coach about two seconds away from rolling his eyes. It’s interesting to see Doyoung like this, especially when normally he’s all goofy, evil, or proud grins around his team. Regardless of the color of the smile it’s always there.

But right now as he engages with a peer, Doyoung is acting like a basic brat. He’s haughty, pouty, but despite the obvious difference in energy between him and Ten there’s a sense of equivalence to the pair—two beings of equal but radically different power.

With a faked 'oof' of exertion, Yukhei finally lifts Renjun off his shoulder and sets him gently on the grass with a sweet smile. Renjun rolls his eyes, blushing a little and swatting at Yukhei’s arm. Cute.

Jaemin reckons their tension is going to snap before he and Jeno’s. _Well_ before, actually, considering that beneath Renjun’s fragile tsundere fronting is a powerful, confident flirt who can be too effective for even Jaemin to handle. Then there’s Yukhei who presents as a goofy fuckboy but in reality is a goofy _shy_ boy, someone who can hurl out flirts left and right but dissolves into a puddle of sheepish joy whenever someone makes advances towards him.

Their chemistry bodes well because both their outward and inward personalities are actually quite compatible. The most apparent obstacle is the fact that despite Renjun being the brainiest of the bunch, he’s also a first class idiot who finds it difficult to acknowledge himself as charming and beautiful and wholeheartedly rejects any attempts to change his mind about himself. If Yukhei’s outward flirt can pierce through Renjun’s self-deprecation and as soon as he discovers that Yukhei is both genuine in his interest and is made of marshmallow on the inside, Renjun's naughty side will rear its dastardly head and both take advantage of Yukhei's affection _and_ fall for it in one fell swoop.

Jaemin is definitely rooting for them. And yes, his diary is 80% entries on the developing relationship dynamics of his friends, thankyouverymuch. There’s even an ongoing study on DREAMs greatest mystery: Coach and Whoever The Hell Hurt Him.

“Everyone, this is Chittaphon Leechaiyapornku.” Doyoung introduces with forced politeness, nailing the pronunciation out of both respect and spite. This could be the guy who hurt him, but somehow Jaemin doubts it—based on Doyoung's behavior, this man seems more adjacent to the mess than answerable to it.

“I suppose it’s kinda fun, meeting a bunch of toddlers. It almost makes me want to be… good. So! As much as I like to see people struggle over my name, I’ll let you all call me Ten.” Ten adds, winking at Renjun. “You may know me for my many exploits,” he drifts off, eyes lingering on Jeno with a satisfied smirk as though sensing his fanaticism, “but I’m here today as Doyoung’s sometimes-friend.”

Doyoung snorts. “That’s pushing it.”

“Begrudging acquaintance.” Ten pivots.

“We know each other.” Doyoung ends, pursing his lips before popping them back open. “Ten is the region’s premiere Quidditch reporter and was ever-so kind enough to make time in his busy, _busy_ schedule to check us out.”

Ten shrugs, neither confirming nor denying anything Doyoung said. The coach continues, “You may be wondering why he didn’t grace us with his presence before now—and trust me, I’ve been asking him to—and the answer is simple: he just didn’t want to.”

If that’s not a veiled ‘you guys weren’t worth his attention before’, Jaemin will eat his own fingers.

“I mean, it’s not like I didn’t have my crushes,” Ten jumps in, eyeing Renjun again and then Chenle, “and I’ve been aware of the potential for years,” his eyes fly to Donghyuck, his nose wrinkled the slightest bit in some sort of envious contempt, “but there was no _narrative_. Nothing touching, no story to dwell on.”

Doyoung blinks a few times before collapsing with a sigh, saying nothing.

“That Mork fellow was a good guy and all but the dynamic with him was way too perfect, too basic for my readers.” Ten continues with a confident shrug.

Chenle, Jeno, Jaemin, and Jisung all flail to cover their laughter at ‘Mork’ but Donghyuck stiffens, his nose wrinkling and brow furrowing. He actually braces his back leg and shifts his torso, angling himself to fight, to defend his turncoat of a soulmate. It’s the first true break in Donghyuck’s armor regarding Mark that Jaemin has witnessed since preseason started and it’s both heartening and alarming.

Only DREAM gets to shit on Mark and only Donghyuck gets to mean it.

“But now? Now the dream ends with a resonant slap to the face. No more dreaming, you had to wake up and _become_ again.” Ten narrates, eyes flicking to Yukhei. “Is this just another Dream, or is it the resolution of it? Are you finally awake now? The answer hardly matters—this is a principal pivot, a tale for all of us who have ever had the rug pulled from under us and ended up flat on our asses. A story for those who had to wake up even if perhaps they didn’t deserve to. Anyone and everyone can empathize with your struggle.”

Oh. Damn. Okay then. This Ten fellow really does have some real literary muscle. Jaemin has never really thought about their situation in such lyrical terms before but there’s no question that he’s right on the mark.

Right on the Mork, actually.

“Plus~! The ‘poor orphan’ angle will appeal to the mamas of the world and boy do I really need to bolster my readership within the maternal demographic.” Ten shows his true colors with a beautiful, slightly manic grin. “Which, incidentally, happens to include your dumb nerd Coach.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes once, then again for good measure. “Anyway, this little monster has a tendency to know what he’s looking at so just be yourselves around him. If I’ve been interpreting his gibberish correctly, today’s session is more informational than anything resembling an interview.” He looks sharply over at Ten with a furrowed brow, “Right?”

“I’ve got a question but yes, more or less.” Ten slips his hands into his pockets with a little grin.

“So don’t worry, yet. I’m looking at you, Jeno, please chill that introverted little soul of yours, you’re in the clear for now. Just let Ten do his thing, maybe ask questions later if you have any. He suffered a _career-ending_ and ultimately _preventable_ injury, maybe use that as a horror story to scare you into keeping all your bodies hale and hearty.”

If Doyoung intended to get a rise from Ten with this speech he’s sure to be disappointed. The reporter’s entire energy has already changed and he focuses his sharp, considerable attention on the players in front of him, his beautiful eyes scanning each Dreamie in turn. This is now _business_ mode.

It must be something of a process for him, this first discerning scan to start putting the pieces of teams together. Ten takes his sweet time looking them up-and-down-and-up again, then down and back up again, completely acute and overwhelming in his approach. It reminds Jaemin of Doyoung’s ability to size up mental and emotional states but with Ten it feels more like a physical appraisal—a jeweler assessing the worth of an uncut diamond.

That’s more or less what they are though, so.

Jaemin is confident in his skills and strength but even he finds himself shriveling under Ten’s scrutiny. His eyes cut across Jaemin’s shoulders to his waist, lingering around there for a bit as though to ascertain the nature of his core strength, then to his crotch (lingering there too… Jaemin isn’t imagining that, right?) then down the legs, up the legs, and finally lands back at his shoulders. He ends his scan with a little nod and a perfect poker face so Jaemin has no idea if he passed or not. He doesn’t even know if this is something one _can_ pass.

Jeno is actually quivering beside him, vibrating in the face of one of his childhood idols. He’s the next target of Ten’s eyeballs and as far as Jaemin knows Jeno has never fancied himself a Seeker, but that in no way prevents him from worshiping Ten and the particular team lineup he was on. Jaemin is _definitely_ going to tease him for that later but for now he leans just a bit into Jeno’s space, one small step closer. Not enough to touch but enough to _be there_ , to project some energy his way because Ten’s inspection and presence is so effective on Jeno that he has apparently forgotten what both breathing and arms are.

And so it goes, a true Quidditch legend drags his gaze up and down their forms, inscrutable and thrilling. Jaemin wonders what he sees, if he’s appraising their present state, their future abilities, maybe their progress since last season? How can one even glean that information from a single examination?

“Mm’kay. Lots of yes, lots of no.” Ten starts talking when he's finished, his focus shifting from external to internal as he processes whatever the hell he just gleaned. “52—no, 4. 5 _4_ points.”

Ever the goody-two-shoes, Jeno stiffens in genuine dread beside Jaemin at the number. He doesn’t think Jeno has ever scored that low on _anything_ in his life, and while Ten’s grade might be harmlessly amusing to Jaemin his partner is different. When Jeno’s feelings do get hurt it’s on a deep, dark level, something close to his core and difficult to heal.

Sure, Jaemin may be superficially petty but when it comes down to it he wears a thick skin. Jeno, though? Not fragile, not weak—Lee Jeno is _not_ weak—just sensitive and honest, someone who feels things deeply and truly within himself. A negative assessment from one of Jeno’s actual heroes would probably eat at him for the rest of his life. 

“54 out of how many.” Doyoung deadpans, exasperated and obviously aware of this particular pattern of Ten’s.

“67.” Ten shrugs, pleased with his subjective and arbitrary ranking process. “Not bad, not bad at all, especially for a pack of cubs…”

“But what does that _mean?_ _”_ Donghyuck questions angrily, the bravest of the bunch when it comes to standing his ground. Also Ten has already pissed him off with the Mork insult so maybe Jaemin should keep a bit of an eye on him and make sure their Seeker doesn’t drive this extremely beneficial reporter away.

“It means 54 points.” Ten shrugs again, wholly unaffected by Donghyuck’s posturing and disinclined to reveal any more about the matter. “I see heart, talent, and infinite potential. You’ve done us proud, Doyoung.”

This brings a strange sort of confusion to Doyoung—he’s not completely lost but he definitely didn’t see Ten’s offhand compliment coming. It goes further than that though, there is  _definitely_ more to the story of the mentioned 'us'. It doesn't seem only the two of them either, and also based on Doyoung's reactions Jaemin reasons there is probably at least one more person co-starring in his mysterious past and it's probably whoever dealt the damage.

"Get over yourself—I never needed either of you."

Yowch. 

Ten smiles fakely at his frenemy, ending with a small but sincere wince. Instead of deal with Doyoung’s sudden ultra-moodiness, he turns to the team. “Moving on. I’ve gotten enough for a preliminary study of the team, but rest assured I’ll be popping in and out of your practices and will surely be at your first match. I do have a final question though, arguably the most important one."

They weren't being noisy before but a different sort of silence hangs over the Dreamies. Sheer anticipation.

Ten rubs his hands together, clever eyes taking on a devilish sheen before he just goes and drops a nuclear bomb. "Who here has fucked?”

The question wreaks chaos.

Renjun chokes on his own tongue, blushing from neck to ears as he stiffens in place and does absolutely everything he can to avoid looking over at Jaemin. Jeno gasps, taking a physical step back from them all, appalled at the very notion that there might have been some sex happenings within the group and no one bothered to tell him. Donghyuck snorts with a cackle, fanning his face as he continues to giggle and judge hard.

Yukhei lets out the smallest squeak, eyes wide as he scans the rest of all the Dreamies for any answers with the notable exception of the object of his affection. Jisung shakes his head with a long-suffering sigh, pretending he isn't affected but also unable to stop the reddening of his ears and his suddenly fiddling fingers. Chenle tries to duplicate Donghyuck’s sincere mirth but doesn’t quite get there and is almost as red as Renjun but for an entirely different reason.

Jaemin subtly betrays himself with the slightest hint of a smile and the twitch of an eyebrow.

And then Doyoung just strangles Ten, right there on the field.

Now, Jaemin knows this team well enough to accurately interpret the nature of the reactions and since Yukhei is transparent it’s not hard to gauge for him either. It’s pretty easy to tell who did what with whom, who wants to do whom, yadda-yadda. But Ten is a complete stranger and shouldn’t be able to tell that much from these reactions.

Ten eventually worms his way out of Doyoung’s throttling and holds off the taller man with what Jaemin recognizes as a wuxi finger hold from all thousand times Renjun has caught him in it. He and Doyoung scuffle a bit more before coming to some sort of nonverbal armistice, though the latter is still fuming from Ten’s lack of tact.

“Don’t be such a prude, Doyoung, they’re all legal adults...” Ten smiles, fixing his hair. “So let’s see, three of you— _no_ , it’s only you two!”

His eyes go to Renjun, who wants to die, and then to Jaemin, who stiffens his jaw in an attempt to hide his grin.

“Yeah you two have definitely smushed. Smashed. Repeatedly. But not anymore, huh?” Ten continues, basically putting their entire sexual history together from only this brief exchange. Little monster, indeed. “No lingering tension though, so I assume it ended well.”

Renjun covers his red face with his hands, completely caught. The only other Dreamie already aware of their past smush-smashing is Donghyuck, who sees all and knows even more. Also Renjun probably confided in him, so there’s that. Jeno’s jaw is on the ground, gaping idiotically wide as his eyes shoot between the two of them and Jisung adopts a similar expression albeit more subdued. Chenle is oddly pleased which is the opposite reaction of Doyoung, who is perfectly scandalized.

Then there’s Yukhei, who looks like someone—Jaemin, specifically—just took a club to his gut. Uh oh, this might knock his and Renjun's budding relationship back a few steps, but then again… it could also skip some entirely.

While Jaemin is totally fine with the information of them having fucked spreading, Renjun never has been so that’s why it didn’t, simple as that. They didn’t need to tell anybody that they occasionally sought a bit of secret solace within each other last year. Keyword: secret.

And in slinks some asshole who just reveals that secret to the world. Very fucking rude but more importantly _not_ what Renjun wanted. Ten might be key to their team success and popularity but now that Renjun is suffering, Jaemin doesn't give a fuck about Ten's profile of them and steps forward to stand in front of Renjun, hiding him from Ten's astute gaze as best as he can.

“Pretty damn rude of you to just air dirty laundry like that. I bet you’ve been decked before for lack of tact…” Jaemin says, words light but eyes sharp.

Ten raises his eyebrows, impressed but ultimately unafraid of Jaemin’s challenge. “Oh, people have certainly tried, but to no avail—I’m quite slippery. But yes, I guess I apologize, though there really is a lot of information to be gained about a team dynamic based on the reaction to that question.”

“But that doesn't excuse it.” Jaemin continues posturing, wondering what expression is on Yukhei’s face right now. He'll surely have to set the story straight after the Storm of Ten passes because there’s no question in his mind that Renjun will completely avoid such a thing. At least Yukhei is now aware which team the Captain bats for, that could speed things up a tad.

“Do you have any questions that don’t have to do with my children having sex?” Doyoung asks, voice strained, a vein visible on his temple as he tries to hold in his rage. Tactless or not, Ten was right when he bucketed Doyoung with all the mothers of the world.

“Yeah, actually. Doyoung, when’s the last time _you’ve_ been laid—”

And then Doyoung strangles Ten yet again, right there on the field.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love ten guys, i really do wowowowo he wiggled himself into a real role in his fic whoops
> 
> but letss be real the constant support of drea and the ponytail!jaemin campaign are the only thing keeping me going with this fic so let me know if you also are enjoying the Long Haired Jaemin Campaign and also what ive been writing maybe. 
> 
> also just enjoy drea and [her works](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pogniscrow) because oh yes yes yes
> 
>    
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/jenoscreamingo)
> 
>  
> 
> next up is some cutecute luren


	6. aiding and abetting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> renjun cannot seem to comprehend that he is beautiful and magnetic but he has eyes and knows there's fire in the gazes he and yukhei share. yukhei just blasts right through his insecurity with sincere flirting and big brown eyes.
> 
> the Greatest Thing Ever happens, involving a set of black velvet sweats and teasing content for the next 200 years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fckin buckle up friends this is just a huge pour of luren snugglesauce 
> 
>  

There’s something special about the energy of the locker room before a match, a palpable power of spirit and togetherness. Not specifically _their_ locker room because first of all, gross, and second of all, Yukhei actually has to duck under the door frame just the tiniest bit when he enters and Renjun doesn’t think that’s very fair. Unfair to _him_ of course—it’s completely fair to the oak tree that is their Keeper.

If only Renjun had problems ducking under doorways… the world would be his? No, he needs to set his sights higher (pun emphatically unintended) to something beyond this world. If only he had the height.

But, uh, not the point.

There’s something special about the energy of the locker room, even the dim, sweaty, _gross_ space they’ve carved for themselves here. DREAM's home pitch is a field slightly removed from their rec center but still associated with it and naturally the amenities are equally as undesirable. But as they say, the prettiest flowers grow from shit. Doyoung thinks it builds character and Renjun can’t help but agree, looking around at this team laugh and glow even through their soggy surroundings.

It’s the power of the locker room atmosphere. More accurately, it’s the power of DREAM. Renjun is so proud of them but he'll probably never say it to the group at large, not yet anyway. He's said it to Jaemin, to Jeno, to Chenle, to pretty much everyone _individually,_ but not to the team as a whole. They need to win their first match to earn that.

Right now the room is abuzz as they prepare themselves for their first match of the season and on top of that it's against a team they can truly call a rival. The match begins in half an hour, a home game. Besides the regular perks that come with having a home-field advantage, that their rivals have to prepare themselves in such poor facilities they aren’t accustomed to sometimes gives DREAM a bit of an edge.

At the moment they enjoy that small chunk of time after entering the locker room but before people get nervous and resort to their independent game rituals and psyche-ups. It’s a playful atmosphere, evident by Jeno and Jisung aggressively tickling Chenle in the corner by the broom racks and Jaemin goading Doyoung into singing one of their fanchants.

Yukhei hangs on the periphery of the festivities, not quite uncomfortable but a little lost, which might explain why he’s hovering in front of his designated locker like a good Keeper sticking to his goalposts.

It strikes Renjun as ironic because one of Yukhei’s most common mistakes over the last two months has been drifting too far outside of the Keeper’s box. It's not illegal gameplay, just foolish as all hell, but it seems accidental with Yukhei, as if he’s following the game so closely he subconsciously gravitates towards the main action. Unfortunately any Chaser worth half a quaffle would take advantage of a Keeper out of position—Renjun absolutely lives for that sort of opening in his opponents. During practice Yukhei has been out of place more times than there are stars in Ursa Major and Minor combined, and that’s only the times they’ve caught him in the act.

That's very-much- _not_ to say Yukhei isn’t exceeding their expectations, both on the pitch and in the group dynamic. He is, but he's also keeping a bit of distance today and Renjun isn’t going to fault him for it. It must be difficult to pick your way into this type of bubbling atmosphere when you’re the new guy, even if you're someone as open and gregarious as Yukhei.

Today is Yukhei's first professional league match and despite his cheerful composure he must be quite nervous, though admittedly the only outward indication of any stress Renjun can pinpoint is in his hands; his long fingers stretching slowly out and just as slowly back into fists. Then again. And again.

Renjun recalls his first game with DREAM, conjures a visceral memory of his heart beating so hard he wondered if someone had replaced it with a bludger. He remembers the blood scorching up his neck, to his ears, to his temples; so heavy he felt his eyeballs beat in time with his heart. What did Renjun even do about his nerves at the time? Nothing, he realizes, because at every moment he had his team by his side, all of them centering their anxieties together.

_Together._

Leaning against his locker with his arms crossed, Renjun unravels himself and raises a hand to call Yukhei over from across from him but is interrupted by Donghyuck. The Seeker is suddenly beckoning him, leaning dangerously off the bench lining the wall adjacent to Renjun’s. Intriguing.

 _"Oye,_ _co-capitán_.” He whisper-yells in Spanish, gesturing Renjun over with small, rapid motions. “Quick, come here.”

So far Donghyuck has been quiet today, but that isn’t actually uncommon. He likes to take stock of the people around him, considerate of both his environment and the people in it. Donghyuck must have observed something special because he’s positively _shining_ , electric, as though sitting on the best information money can buy.

Shining is a pretty normal setting for Donghyuck, but this is different. This is something nasty, something _fun_. Renjun wants in, so he pushes off the locker at his back to join him on the bench, both he and Donghyuck sidling towards each other as one. “What?”

Donghyuck’s face breaks out into a sly, dangerous smile, draping an arm around Renjun’s waist to tug him closer. “Hold on to your butt.”

Renjun rolls his eyes to disguise his sincere interest and snuggles closer. The Seeker’s eyes flick from him to Jeno (now with Jisung and Chenle teaming up to tickle him back), then to Doyoung (arms crossed over his chest, stubbornly refusing to sing for Jaemin), and finally back to Renjun. Somehow he’s even more delighted.

“Oh boy. Oh yes. Okay. Jeno and Doyoung are wearing the same outfit.”

The absurdity of this statement is stunning and it takes Renjun a bit to recover from the shock of hearing it alone. “Fuck you, no way.” His eyes quickly flick to the offenders and—oh my.

“Exact. Same. Outfit.” Donghyuck mutters, right in his ear. “I don’t think they know yet.”

He’s right. It’s so striking now that it's been drawn to his attention that Renjun has absolutely no clue how he could have missed it from the start. He must be going blind—that or such an occurrence is so absurd and unimaginable that his brain just failed to recognize it for what it was.

Jeno and Doyoung are wearing the same black track outfit. Same material, same double white stripes running from the collar and over the shoulder, down the arms and legs to the cuffed hem. Both have the jackets unzipped 3/4ths of the way, exposing a white plain T-shirt underneath. They even have the same hair color.

It’s the same outfit, all the way down to the, “Socks and sandals.” Renjun gapes, gagging. “How could they _both_ go for socks and sandals?”

 _“That’s_ what you choose to address?” Donghyuck looks offended before laughing loud enough for others to hear. “I mean disgusting, obviously, but? Um? This is the greatest fucking thing that’s ever happened. Ever. In life.”

Renjun snorts, giggles starting to overtake him as he keeps looking at the Coach and Co-Captain. Soon he has to grab Donghyuck’s thigh in a pincer to stop himself from cackling out loud. The Seeker puts up with the abuse, used to it by now.

In an attempt to look at something other than the fashion train collision, Renjun ascertains the players at the other end of the room haven’t noticed he and Donghyuck’s giggle fit before his eyes flick to Yukhei, who happens to be staring straight at them.

Not them, _him_. He’s staring straight at Renjun with a furrowed brow and an expression toeing the line between amused and confused. Even with his face screwed up to high hell, there’s no denying that Yukhei is stupefyingly handsome but Renjun prides himself on managing to see around that more often than not. Since DREAM packs such aesthetic heat as Jaemin, Jeno, Donghyuck—fuck it, all of them are so handsome, Coach included, that Renjun is completely inured to pretty boys by now.

It’s been about a month since Ten threw him and Jaemin under the sex bus but the aftermath was much milder than Renjun feared it would be. Donghyuck was already aware, Chenle still teases occasionally, and Jisung and Doyoung have been content to pretend nothing happened whatsoever. The most awkward moment was probably when Jeno shyly and weirdly asked Renjun how it was, to which Renjun socked his co-Captain in the solar plexus before walking away with a, _“best I’ve ever had, actually.”_

Yukhei, though. Ever since he learned that he and Jaemin had once been fuck buddies Yukhei has been _attentive_ , to say the least. Like right now, eyes locked with Renjun's, he tilts his head like a fretful dog and raises a thick eyebrow. Still shaking from restrained laughter, Renjun removes the hand digging into Donghyuck’s leg and waves him over, nodding quickly.

Their Keeper is there in a flash, squatting down low to match their eye level on the bench. He picks up on the mood and has enough sense to keep his voice low. “What is this? Why do you two look like you’re going to explode? Or implode? It’s a bit of both."

Donghyuck manages to take a deep breath and push away from Renjun before dragging Yukhei down into the space he made between them. Donghyuck hooks his arm around Yukhei’s elbow and after a moment’s consideration Renjun turns slightly into the Keeper and grabs his (bare, Renjun must note) upper arm with both hands, knocking knees with him, testing something that's been on his mind lately.

Well, it’s not quite knocking knees. Yukhei’s legs are much longer (and meatier) than his so it’s more like Renjun’s knobbly knee is digging into the bottom of his thigh but whatever. What’s a bit more distracting than that is how Yukhei stiffens at the contact. Not when Donghyuck looped arms, no, but when Renjun grabbed his (bare, worth note) biceps. He’s pretty sure, actually completely fucking sure Yukhei just flexed under his touch. 

Test… passed? Renjun doesn't know what he was going for here but the observation is thrilling and confusing enough to stifle his laugh attack.

Renjun can’t see Donghyuck through Yukhei’s bulk but he knows he’s smirking like a demon when he informs, “Okay, don’t make a scene _but_... Jeno and Doyoung are wearing the same outfit.”

“You’re kidding…” Yukhei mutters deeply, furrowing his brow as he stares at the twin fashion travesty. A long, long moment passes before he practically chokes and slaps his left hand over his mouth. This happens to be the arm that Renjun is still grabbing and since Yukhei is apparently _that_ much larger than him, he actually tugs Renjun further into him in the process.

A dozen alarms of varying pitches sound in his head at this, all of them screaming red, and Renjun lets go of his arm and moves his knees away immediately. His heart pounds heavily for an entirely different and embarrassing reason than the rib-breaking laughter of before. He wonders if Yukhei made any note of the sudden absence of contact but considering their Keeper is now party to the Greatest Thing Ever Renjun supposes he has more pressing observations on his mind.

“Maybe they just... decided to match today?” Yukhei chokes out, controlling himself and casting a sideways look at Renjun. They make eye contact and then Yukhei’s eyes drop down to where Renjun’s hands had been on his biceps and, oh. Okay, yeah, he noticed. That could mean quite a few things and his head spins with the implications.

Yukhei really has been noticing him a lot lately.

“No way.” Donghyuck mutters.

“They can’t possibly know…” Renjun affirms shakily, looking determinedly at Jeno. “They would have made some grand, dramatic entrance if they planned this ahead.”

Donghyuck hums in satisfied agreement. “No, my long-limbed friend. This is delicious serendipity. Simply superb."

“Wooow...” Yukhei draws out, hand still over his mouth. “J-just… _look_ at them. Father and son.”

“Mother and son, you mean.” Renjun corrects with a low laugh.

Doyoung breaks away from Jaemin’s pestering and approaches Jeno, who has his back to him.

“Uh oh.” Donghyuck mutters. “Contact in five, four, three…”

Doyoung taps Jeno on the shoulder.

“... two…” Renjun joins in Donghyuck’s countdown.

Jeno turns, expression shifting from teasing to obedient as he turns to his Coach.

“... one.” The three conspirators call in unison.

It’s immediate. Doyoung’s eyes widen as Jeno turns to him fully and he looks the Beater up and down twice in rapid succession, gaping like a fish.

Jeno doesn’t notice at first and pokes him in the chest, “What’s with that face, Coach?”

Now all eyes are on them and a pregnant pause hangs in the air. It holds, lingers, builds in power before Yukhei can't take it anymore and lets out a giant bark of laughter. He thoughtlessly slips his arm around Renjun’s waist to anchor himself through the unleashed storm of hilarity, but it's only half-flirting at this point because he really is laughing for his life now. 

This of course causes Renjun and Donghyuck to finally break as well, the latter jumping to his feet and pointing at Doyoung and Jeno, cackling like a supervillain. Renjun leans forward, arms wrapped around his stomach in laughter and Yukhei’s hand floats up, running smoothly over his back to rest over his shoulder blades and Renjun will never admit this to _anyone_ but he reflexively leans back into the touch like a pleased cat. If Yukhei is paying attention to him like this, Renjun should probably explore it a bit more, right? See if it’s… what Renjun thinks maybe it could be.

While Renjun is torn between his observations and lack of confidence everyone else catches on to the situation, led by Chenle’s high cackle. The collective laughter is uproarious, echoing around their small locker room and compounding the noise. Jeno finally realizes that they’re wearing the same outfit and laughs along, blushing brightly but clearly more amused than embarrassed.

Doyoung pretends to fume and barks, “Jeno, you take that off right now or so help me…” He checks his watch, blushing. “Joke’s on you jerks, it’s time to gear up anyway. Get to it.”

His orders carry no bite but his team obeys, still laughing. Donghyuck prances over to Jeno and Doyoung and tries to line them up side by side but Doyoung is having none of it. A giddy peace eventually falls and they are in an even better mood as they go to change out of their assorted athleisure and into their actual uniforms.

Now that the laughter has passed, question marks revolve around Renjun's mind. He and Yukhei are definitely still touching, almost half-embracing at this point as they wait for their breath to return. It's not to say Renjun dislikes physical contact and when you’re on a team with some seriously cuddly muffins like Jaemin and Jeno you come to endure it and eventually appreciate it as part of their love language. He expects physical contact by now and therefore understands it to be important and bearable and sometimes nice.

But he doesn't know Yukhei like he knows the rest of DREAM. He doesn't know to expect his touch or what it means to the Keeper. Renjun doesn't know his motives and simply cannot fathom why it's necessary for them to be touching right now.

Except he totally _can_ fathom it. There is fire here. It’s nothing like how he Jaemin slammed into each other last year—this is smoldering heat instead of sudden dynamite. But that’s assuming Yukhei is interested in him and, Merlin's Ass, why on earth would he be?

Despite tying himself into knots because of Yukhei’s attention, Renjun cannot deny how nice it is. They're closer than is necessary or appropriate and Yukhei's paddle of a hand is almost large enough to span Renjun's shoulder blades. It feels, well, safe. Not that he needs to feel safe or really ever feels unsafe, but he's okay with this treatment. With only a single arm around him Yukhei somehow makes Renjun feel worthy of support and affection instead of being vulnerable enough to need it. The difference is subtle and with every day that passes Renjun finds himself recognizing the currents and subtleties in Yukhei's behavior that are regularly buried beneath his loud, canine energy.

He still doesn't know why Yukhei is touching him, though. Because it could be that smoulder Renjun fancies it to be or it could just be how the Keeper displays platonic affection. He really doesn't know.

They remain together on the bench, collecting themselves. After a deep breath Renjun wiggles out and springs into a stand. He’s already right at his own locker and revolves neatly on his heel, offering a hand to Yukhei to help him up but the Keeper is already on his feet, practically towering over him. Unfortunately(?) Renjun has his hand out when he turns and ends up running his fingers across Yukhei’s navel with the move. Oh. My. Well then.

He jumps back immediately, whipping his hand behind his back. Yukhei gargles out a single laugh, running his hand through his hair sheepishly. “Ah, sorry, I…”

“S-suit up, Keeper.” Renjun growls through a blush, turning to his own locker and willing it to swallow him whole. For fuck’s sake, where’s that immunity to handsome men when you need it? Apparently it's much more difficult to handle Wong Yukhei when his _face_ is in the picture.

“I… yeah. Okay. Right, we have a match.” Yukhei mutters, as though he forgot.

 _We have a match, collect your fucking marbles and lead your team,_ Renjun reprimands himself, stripping down and slipping into his uniform with practiced fluidity. Quickly suited up, he gives another tug to the straps of his bracers and turns back to the room to see his team in varying states of readiness.

Jisung is helping Yukhei fasten his shoulder pads, muttering advice to the Keeper with a fond exasperation that betrays their age gap. Jaemin and Jeno are completely ready and are going through a long-winded secret handshake with their clubs, hands, and hips—they add a new motion to the ritual after every game they play together and by now the entire routine takes about a minute and a half. Chenle teases a still-blushing Doyoung as he fastens his knee-pads, leaving Donghyuck the least ready.

Seekers are widely known to be the most superstitious players and Donghyuck is no exception to this statistic. He doesn't balance on one leg while he dresses or chant some mantra while rubbing a rabbit’s foot, nothing like that. He just sits crossed-legged on the floor and reads his personal tarot before every match. Pretty simple, pretty powerful.

It’s a quick and easy spread: past, present, future. Donghyuck never tells them what he draws or what it means and by now they know not to ask. Doyoung had even gone so far as to warn Yukhei not to raise any question or comment about the matter in case the Keeper’s friendly curiosity got the better of him.

Finally Doyoung steps into the center of the locker room, hands raised in the air as though at wandpoint. All conversations taper out and Donghyuck shuffles his cards back into his deck before hastily wiggling into his uniform like the rest of them.

“Okay kids, we’re ten minutes out. I am going to address today’s wardrobe mishap only once.” Doyoung shuts his eyes to deliver it. “Lee Jeno, I will incinerate your tracksuit before the game ends unless you take it upon yourself to get rid of it.”

“Harsh.” Donghyuck chortles. “What is it they say about imitation, Coach?”

Jeno covers his face with his hands.

“It’s very sincere.” Jisung informs with a smirk.

“And so, _so_ flattering.” Jaemin adds sagely next to Jisung. The youngest hovers his palm out for a low-five which Jaemin exuberantly slaps.

 _“Not_ what happened.” Jeno whines, muffled behind his gloves.

“It’s been addressed. For the first and last time.” Doyoung snaps aggressively before shifting smoothly into a toothy grin. “In case you hoodlums forgot, we have a match in ten minutes. You know, the first of the season. Against our rivals.”

“Stray Kids.” Donghyuck spits.

“Tell me, have we ever beaten them?” Doyoung asks with all the condescending gravitas of a preschool teacher.

Renjun rolls his eyes despite his pure respect for Stray Kids’ formidable Chaser line. He opens his mouth to acknowledge their track record and the quality of their team but Chenle beats him to it.

“No.” He growls, pulling at the elastic strap of his bracer with a sharp snap. Chenle continues before Doyoung can prompt him into more. “Their defense has always endured the storm."

'Enduring' is the best possible word to describe the team they’re up against. Stray Kids is young (not as young as DREAM but the second youngest in the league), smaller than most, and alarmingly strong despite their stature. They have a deceptively athletic Keeper, two pretty boy Beaters, an underestimated Seeker, and the strongest defensive Chaser line in the Interasia Quidditch League.

If DREAM is the unstoppable offense in the IQL, Stray Kids is the immovable defense. Over the last three years defense has always barely triumphed, but that was with Mark at the helm. Renjun will admit their current line up doesn’t pack the same offensive heat anymore whereas Stray Kids would have only matured their defensive posturing by now.

But Stray Kids don’t have a Donghyuck. They don’t have a Seeker who has spent the last five months fiendishly improving his skills, haunted by a traumatic loss and starving to get his hands on a regulation snitch.

That’s today’s strategy: let the sun shine. Pave the way for Donghyuck to win. It’s not about goals scored, not about the endgame points margin—no team ever scores high against Stray Kids anyway. Today they have to end the match as soon as possible, simple as that. Yes, last time they shifted tactics to give Donghyuck the most power it ended in disaster, but that disaster was _not_ his fault. No matter how much he beats himself up for it, their last loss isn't on him.

This is the match where DREAM proves that. Not to the world but to their beloved Seeker.

Naturally, Renjun really, _really_ wants to ask Donghyuck how his tarot spread came out but he of all people knows better than to fuck around with Divination. He looks at Donghyuck, weighs his posture and expression and his breathing and as usual can discern nothing about what cards he drew or how the spread affected his attitude. Unfortunate but unsurprising given that their Seeker has what Jaemin calls a ‘god-tier poker face’.

It doesn’t matter though. He trusts Donghyuck more than anyone else on this team, Doyoung included. The Seeker might be outwardly concealing it but Renjun knows he’s seething and his blood scorches through his veins. He’s ready to kill.

Over the course of the conversation the Dreamies have condensed around their Coach and Renjun can feel rather than see Yukhei shuffle into place between him and Jaemin.

“I suppose this is when I hit you with some long-winded speech about rebirth and redemption...” Doyoung muses, turning slowly around to face each of his players. He stops at Jeno to flick him on the nose. “But I won’t. I’ve been watching you support each other, individually seek each other out for the sole purpose of complimenting and supporting your friends. Your brothers. You’ve all impressed me over the last two months with your self-sufficiency and teamwork, so I don’t really know what I can say now besides... kill them. To death."

The team snorts and laughs at this but they understand. It’s not just the two Captains that have been taking the reins in supporting each individual, it really has been every single one of them, in every configuration possible. DREAM wasn’t like this with Mark and it finally hits Renjun that they relied on their old Captain far too heavily.

But now they’ll be coming together to fill the space he left behind and Renjun knows they are going to come out stronger for it. They already have.

“Hey, uh…” Yukhei says, cutting through the low chatter with a raised hand. “Can I say something?”

Jeno nods excitedly and Renjun sends him a rare, soft smile and says, "Go for it.”

“Sweet, okay. Well! I know I still have a long way to go before I’m at your level…” Yukhei starts and Jaemin scoffs at his mild self-deprecation. “But I just want you guys to know the last two months have been some of the most fun I’ve ever had. Actually, like, in my entire life."

“Awww…” Donghyuck croons. “What the hell, stop being so cute.”

“Never.” Yukhei snaps back, smiling widely. “The most fun and also the most growth I’ve ever been able to witness in myself. _Healthy_ growth, the kind of improvement you see in other people and wish you could have the chance to experience yourself."

Uh oh. At his present level Yukhei speaks too many languages to be a true wordsmith in any of them and often has to take pauses mid-sentence in order to get to his final point. It’s never because he doesn’t have something to say but because he has to take the time to organize his thoughts and remember how the hell grammar works. Renjun gets this, he remembers growing up learning Korean and fearing that people thought he was dumb when his thoughts couldn’t quite roll off his tongue the way they formed in his mind.

But Yukhei is smart despite his troubles with Korean and has this particular ability to break out into these well-spoken little speeches right when it matters most. Whatever he’s saying is always meaningful to him, some sentiment or observation he’s been crafting for a while. It’s as if expressing it is so important to him that he practices the words, runs them around his head a hundred times in order for them to have the greatest and most accurate impact.

"You have all selflessly helped me grow and I want to thank you for that. For welcoming me so easily, for helping me and allowing me to help you in return. I’m not the new Keeper… I’m _your_ Keeper, and there’s no better feeling in the world than knowing you belong to a group like this. So, heh, thanks for that.”

On Yukhei’s other side Chenle looks up to him with something like reverence and Renjun is having a really hard time holding back his heart-eyes. Uh oh.

Yukhei holds the back of his head in embarrassment but keeps going. “Anyway, I’m going to go out there and kick some serious ass, who’s with me?"

All of them converge on Yukhei at this, each expressing their own hype and readiness. Renjun realizes he’s smacking the Keeper on the back repeatedly only after he’s hit him a dozen times. Doyoung slips out of the huddle, hanging on the edge like a doting mother.

“Alright, alright!” Jeno calls eventually, reaching across the fray for Renjun’s hand and connecting the two Captains. Jisung shushes the rest, nudging them all into a circle bisected by Jeno and Renjun’s joined hands.

“Hands in!” Jeno calls strongly, slipping into his Captain-mode. Five hands shoot towards the two clasped in the center. “You too, Coach.”

Doyoung shoots them a wide-eyed _who, me?_ look and Renjun answers the unspoken question. “Yes, get in here. We dream together or we don’t dream at all.”

He shuffles in, as sheepish as Renjun can ever remember him ever being. With the addition of Doyoung’s hand the circle becomes balanced. Jeno and Renjun lock eyes and nod in unison before chanting together, “Yooo DREAM!”

“JEOREO JUJA FIGHTING!”

“YO. DREAM.” Jeno bellows while Renjun chants it quieter, holding his free hand to this ear.

“JEOREO. JUJA. FIGHTIIIIIING!” They all say as one. The shouts echo painfully around the small chamber, vibrating through them all.

(Somewhere in Seoul, a shiver courses up Mark’s spine.)

Yeah, they’re fucking ready. They break the circle to grab their brooms and Chenle and Jeno each grab an end of their equipment crate, leaving Jisung and Jaemin to hold their brooms for them. Doyoung raises a chipped ceramic mug, charcoal with rose and orange stripes—their colors. With a quick grin he taps the rim of the mug with his wand, issuing a nonverbal  _P_ _ortus_ spell to turn it into the Portkey that will take them to their home pitch.

For their first-ever match years ago, Doyoung (in his nervousness) forgot about transportation and quickly snatched the closest available object from his desk to turn into an unauthorized Portkey. They won that game, their first, and the mug has been their designated Portkey ever since.

“Okay, everyone get a finger on the mug.” He instructs, holding it gingerly by the handle. The other seven shuffle in, some reaching arms over, some under. Jisung awkwardly maneuvers his arm to be touching the very bottom of the mug.

It’s a tight fit with the equipment crate and all their brooms. Renjun finds it easiest to wiggle himself into the nook created under Yukhei’s arm, burrowing so close he can feel the Keeper’s breath flutter through his hair. Renjun is too observant not to notice he smells like sandalwood over the heavy leather scent of his armor.  

Doyoung makes sure they’re all touching the Portkey before beginning his countdown. “And three… two... one... _poof!_ ”

Renjun leans into the sensation of a hook dragging him up by his navel, closing his eyes against the whirlwind of mass teleportation. After an uncomfortable moment they land with a strange feeling between a jolt and a drag and he takes a deep breath of fresh air. The Dreamies utter varying noises of discontent at the transport and Renjun still has his eyes closed when they pull away from the tight circle and sort themselves out. A warm breeze drifts across his skin and bright summer sun shines through his closed eyelids.

When he finally opens his eyes the splendor of a perfect day almost knocks him out—the bright emerald of sunlit grass, a sky so blue it looks purple. What a fucking day to play Quidditch. As Renjun’s eyes adjust he spots Stray Kids on the other side of the field. Nine people, seven of which wear their signature scarlet and black uniforms.   

“Look at them. Just standing there like assholes.” Jaemin growls from Renjun’s left, ending with a,  _hmph._ Renjun casts a judgemental eyebrow at him, watching as the Beater pulls the top half of his hair into a small ponytail.

Jaemin’s long hair campaign is moving along fine, finally long enough to tie all of it into both a low and high ponytail. Doyoung absolutely hates it but Renjun can’t help but think the look suits Jaemin quite well, especially now that he learned how to braid and has one forelock braided back, secured with a rather artful array of bobby pins. It's quite pretty and more importantly not reflective enough to catch the light and be mistaken for a snitch. Jaemin likes looking good and he’s good at it too. No harm in that.

“Well, we're _also_ standing here like assholes. So." Jisung observes, taking a spot on Renjun’s right. He has a large gloved hand shadowing his eyes as he stares across the bright pitch. “But it’s good to see they haven’t grown any taller since last time.”

“Not all of us grow a foot a day, bamboo boy.” Donghyuck says from behind them, voice strained as he goes through lateral hip stretches.

Renjun finally turns to the rest of his team and is about to open his mouth to call them closer when he sees Jeno is already on top of it, gently shoving Chenle while Yukhei trails behind them with a bounce in his step. Doyoung watches everyone very closely and Renjun shoots him a sardonic thumbs up.

The next few minutes pass in a whirlwind of stretching, double checking laces, and adjusting glove tightness. Doyoung frets the most, retying Yukhei’s chest armor and summoning a headband for Jaemin, _‘in case that idiotic ponytail fails you mid-game.’_

“Coach, stop mothering!” Renjun finally draws the line when Doyoung starts to blow a stream of steam from his wand to iron a few wrinkles out of Chenle’s cloak.

“You guys only _wish_ your mothers took care of you like this.” Doyoung huffs on impulse, clearly more nervous than most of them.

Chenle gapes at him. “Did you just insult _all_ of our mothers?”

Doyoung’s eyes bug out when he realizes what he just said. “Ah! Uh, um… wow, sorry. I’m just going to… leave you to it. Your mothers are all wonderful ladies, strong beautiful women who brought you into this world in a way I _never_ could an—”

“—get out of here, Coach.” Jeno shoos him away, beaming to let him know that all is forgiven.

Doyoung hops awkwardly onto his broom and hovers about a meter in the air, giving them a final embarrassed cringe before rising up and away. Renjun shakes his head fondly at their Coach’s antics. Whenever he gets obviously nervous like this (enough to insult their mothers, apparently) it has a calming effect on the rest of them. No matter what the Dreamies are feeling right now it's comforting to know that _no one_ is fretting more than Kim Doyoung.

The referee for today’s match, a portly middle-aged man with a scruffy mustache, floats lazily into the center of the pitch with a regulation quaffle in hand. He blows two short blasts on his whistle, signaling that the game will begin in two minutes. The bludgers trail behind him lazily and if he squints Renjun swears he can catch a glimpse of the snitch floating by the tail end of his broom.

Curious, he turns to Donghyuck already hovering on his broom behind him. The Seeker casts a narrow-eyed gaze at a spot right above the referee’s head, no doubt the actual location of the snitch. Well then. Donghyuck already having a lock on the snitch is as good a sign as they could hope for.

Also Renjun is clearly a Chaser for a reason, noted.

“Alright guys, let’s get into position.” Jeno calls, mounting his broom with a dangerous smirk.

It’s not just because of his comforting spirit and trustworthiness that Jeno is a Captain—the Beater _changes_ once he gets on a broom, shifting out of his quiet fluffiness straight into something indomitable and lethal. Unlike Jaemin who is exactly who he is at every moment he breathes, Jeno flip-flops between two poles: super love and super kill.

The Co-Captain’s eyes have changed, brows furrowing, pupils suddenly blown and discerning. This version of Jeno is equally as dependable as his cuddly form and Renjun quietly agrees when Jaemin says it's fifty times hotter.

The seven Dreamies mount their brooms and hover together before moving as one towards the center of the pitch. Stray Kids does the same and soon the two teams are equidistant from each other, positioning themselves so they’re spaced evenly in a circle around the ref. Renjun eyes his counterpart, Stray Kids Captain and Chaser Bang Chan, the heart and soul of the entire team. Chan smiles sweetly at him and tosses a tiny wave which Renjun returns with a curt nod.

Jaemin and Jeno stand side-by-side with their arms crossed, directly across from the opposing Beaters Seungmin and Minho. Admittedly they’re not as tough or as synergized as their DREAM equivalent but there’s a reason for that. Two of their Chasers would actually make stronger Beaters but the Stray Kids strategy is pure defense, not just on the Chaser line but the Beaters as well. Minho and Seungmin are misdirectors instead of assassins, using their reach to divert bludger trajectories as opposed to smashing them offensively at the other team like Jeno and Jaemin.

Donghyuck, today’s emphasis, smiles fakely at their Seeker, Felix, who smiles sincerely in return. Felix is pretty good and Renjun thinks he has a lot of untapped potential but he’s just not there yet. Hell, Doyoung even mentioned in their last practice that Chenle might play better Seeker than Felix at this point. Unfortunately these facts ring hollow considering Felix has snatched the snitch against them three times now.

That shit is _not_ happening today, though. No fucking sir!

Jisung is a whole head and a half taller than his counterpart, Changbin, but they’re oddly well matched in terms of sheer power and defensive ability. Chenle, DREAMs new ace, narrows his eyes at Stray Kids’ Jisung (they call him the Other Jisung) who takes after his Captain and smiles back very kindly.

Yukhei is the only one of them smiling at his opponent and he even bows the slightest bit to the Keeper Hyunjin, who laughs brightly and bows back.

It dawns on Renjun that Yukhei might be their ticket to establishing lasting relationships with other teams, something they have thus far been both unable and disinclined to do. He makes a note to compliment Yukhei about it after they win. Not just compliment, maybe even learn from.

He really should just _talk_ to Yukhei more. In general.

Stray Kids has two Coaches or, rather, a Head Coach Woojin and his Assistant Jeongin. They hover directly across the pitch from Doyoung and Renjun can very easily imagine Doyoung tapping into his rare immaturity and sticking his tongue out at them.

“Leads to the center.” The referee calls gruffly. Chenle and the Other Jisung approach within two meters of each other, rising up to the dead center of the pitch. The other players rise with them but keep the circle intact.

Once the referee sees that everyone is in their proper place, he blows one short blast of his whistle to bring the snitch to life. For the only time in every game all players’ eyes fix on the gleaming ball of gold before it flits out of sight. He whistles twice more and the bludgers let fly, careening to opposite ends of the pitch—they’ll only become aggressive after the initiation whistle.

Renjun inhales softly, slowly, breathing in a lingering gust of summer wind and breathing it back out. There’s no time left to look back and check on his team, see if they’re ready to fucking rumble, but Renjun doesn’t need to.

He can feel them, feel their energy around him, and doesn’t have to look back. They’re ready.

Still, from his position in the semi-circle, Renjun can see Donghyuck in his peripheries and angles his head the smallest bit more to get a good look at him. The Seeker is poised and lethal but relaxed in that languid way of his that lazily shows off how flexible he is. He looks handsome as hell and Renjun knows for a fact that Donghyuck made sure he looked great today because it’s a personal confidence-booster of his. When he feels attractive, he feels powerful, and when he feels powerful, he is. He’ll win this game for them, Renjun has absolutely no doubt.

Donghyuck is a killer and the rest of DREAM is just here to aid and abet the murder.

 

. . . . . . .

 

127 Beater Jung Jaehyun scratches at the front of his ear, the site of the annoying elastic strap of his black facemask. It’s too hot for that today, and Jaehyun reckons he’s pretty well-covered already with his white cap and ill-fitting black long-sleeved shirt. 127 is kind of a Thing and the players get noticed now at least once every time they stray into public.

They have front row seats to DREAMs first league match of the season and Jaehyun had enough forethought to dress down, dress unremarkably. There’s drama between his team and DREAM, obviously, because they pretty much poached their star player right when the team was getting good. A bit of a cold move on Irene’s part, really, but Mark himself is a gem. Real talent, real discipline, and (ever since he got his old DREAM broom back from his ex-Coach) has been absolutely brilliant playing with them.

Sitting by Jaehyun’s side is 127 Chaser Nakamoto Yuta, exposing much more skin than him but still making a small attempt to conceal his most-revealing features. In his case that's the grey and orange DREAM-branded knit scarf wrapped around his neck that obscures the bottom half of his face and a grey bucket hat over his low, ruby red ponytail. Apart from that he wears a white tank tucked half into pale teal shorts. Yuta gives off an impulsive and reckless vibe but Jaehyun knows he cares a lot. A whole lot, with his whole heart.

Yuta is actually, legitimately, an original DREAM fan. He’s supported DREAM since their debut season and paid a special interest to Mark every since he joined. Vocal in his support and admiration of them, Mark actually avoided him for the first two weeks because he wasn’t ready to be reminded of his old team and all Yuta wanted to do is squish the ex-Dreamie to death and interrogate him.

They’re over that hurdle of tension by now. Thankfully.

Yuta has season tickets to all DREAM matches and went so far as to outwardly pay wholesale instead of using athlete-celebrity status to just wiggle in for free, all because he wanted the Dreamies to get their money. He can’t even attend some of the matches, the most notable being the one where they happen to play each other. 

Despite not really knowing much about DREAM besides that they're young, they have a touted Beater line and it’s Mark’s old team, Jaehyun agreed to accompany Yuta to the match today. He was on the fence, actually, before Yuta said that they need to scout out the scene and see if it would be safe for Mark to visit. Jaehyun caved immediately—he adores Mark.

Jaehyun won’t go so far as to call it destiny (he doesn’t believe in that anyway) but there is surely some real cosmic shit tugging 127 and DREAM together. Despite the little jerk in the back of his mind reminding him that there’s no way 127 could lose to a team like DREAM, Jaehyun’s fingertips tingle at the thought of playing against them.

“Oh shit. Oh dearie _me_.” Yuta breathes, leaning forward out of his seat with his hands clasped around the guard railing. DREAM and their opposition are circled and up, ready for the opening toss.

Jaehyun tugs at his face-mask again, wishing he took after Yuta and wore less clothing for such a bright day.

“Ey. Jae. Pay attention, DREAM likes to start with a _bang!”_ Yuta nags, tugging Jaehyun forward in his chair. “Just you wait. Keep an eye on their little Chaser, number 02, he’s otherworldly.”

“Uh-huh.” Jaehyun nods with a forced smile.

A single whistle screams through the pitch, magnified and thrilling all the way to Jaehyun’s bones. Even as a spectator, he loves Quidditch, loves everything about it. For a heartbeat he forgets he’s here to see DREAM as he absorbs the entire atmosphere of the pitch, an affirmation that every single thing about this sport is dear to him.

Yuta looks like he’s about to actually die right now so in the end it’s good that Jaehyun came along in case he actually requires physical resuscitation.

The quaffle is thrown up with magical slowness, floating towards the start of the match. Finally the apex of the quaffle is hit and DREAM does indeed deal a great first strike, that little 02 coming out of the flurry with the ball tucked tight under his arm.

“Just you wait.” Yuta rubs his palms together, chuckling like a villain.

Game on, Dreamies.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sports anime rule: lead ups and locker room scenes are important
> 
> i like skz thats why im using them as the first opponent 
> 
> but boy do i love love yuta omg
> 
>  
> 
> thank you to everyone who showed me some affection on [twitter](https://twitter.com/jenoscreamingo) for the last chapter and to those who kudod and commentd and for just reading this insane leadup omfg lets go


	7. chicken for info

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the match doesn't make sense so yuta and jaehyun trade chicken for information and then get day drunk with their new source. jisung's emotional passivity catches up with him and chenle is throwing like a tween. 
> 
> everyone compliments each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part 1 of the SKZ match, pt2 out within the week
> 
>  
> 
> if you forgot, 127 players are crashing DREAMs first match and luren finally starts to sail
> 
>  
> 
> !

. . . . . . .

 

Yuta holds two sweaty bottles of butterbeer between his fingers and balances a sloppy platter of dakganjeong on one forearm while also carrying a mountain of DREAM merchandise in his other hand. With quick, long strides he hastens away from the stadium food court back to his and Jaehyun’s seats with his loot. He snagged a DREAM cap, another scarf, two flags, one magically enhanced cheering horn, and two cute keychains; all of that merchandise for the price of one and a half 127-branded T-shirts, which is just… rather sad. 

DREAM should really up the prices on their merch if they want to make more money, but at least this means Yuta can go back and buy the whole damn shop if he wants. And he does want, very much wants. At least half of the merchandise he just bought is for Jaehyun anyway—scratch that, less than half, Yuta wants both keychains. And the cap. 

Yuta takes the stairs back to his section of the stands two steps at a time without dropping any fried chicken, ears peeled for commentation but all he gets is a swell of cheering, nothing that clues him in to the state of the game. He normally hates missing even a minute of a DREAM match but he lost abysmally to Jaehyun in rock-paper-scissors and also owes him for something or another so Yuta was tasked with grabbing snacks and refreshments. It’s only fifteen minutes into the game so he doubts he missed anything ridiculous but then again, this is Quidditch. DREAMs Seeker Donghyuck’s fastest catch in regulation play has been 11 minutes and 47 seconds so all bets are off. 

Everyone knows Stray Kids is a great team and every match between them and DREAM has always lasted upwards of an hour and a half. Yuta will be the first to admit there’s a different sort competitive spirit whenever the same-aged rivals go head-to-head. It's a clash of respect, simmering rage, and a bit of embarrassment on DREAMs side for never beating them.

Yuta’s not just saying this because he’s a Dreamer (the unofficial name of DREAM fans) but because it’s a statistical fact: player for player, DREAM is better than Stray Kids.  

As Yuta finally reaches the top of the rickety wooden stairs leading to the stands, the clear summer day momentarily blinds him and since his hands are occupied he has to hide under his bucket hat to recover from it. That’s when he hears something confusing. 

_“And yet another fumble from newly-minted DREAM Chaser Park Jisung, leading to a quick score from Stray Kids Chaser Bang Chan, his second of the match. Stray Kids leads 70 to 20.”_

None of those words make sense and this isn’t his Second Language Syndrome talking. With a gasp and a face of pure offense Yuta tears down the stairs, actually losing a chicken wing in his haste to get back to his seat and interrogate Jaehyun about what the fuck has been happening. 

‘Jisung’ and ‘fumbled’ simply doesn’t make sense. Neither does the fact that DREAM only has two goals. Or that SKZ is in the lead, for that matter.

“What the _fuck_ is happening?” Yuta growls at Jaehyun as soon as he slips into place beside him, stuffing all the merchandise into Jaehyun’s surprised hands as Yuta hastens to slip the beers in the stadium cup holders and set the platter of chicken on the empty seat next to him. 

“They’re losing.” Jaehyun laughs without humor, picking through the pile of merch curiously. “Is all this for me?”

Yuta doesn’t answer him, eyes on the field as his Chaser senses start to pick it all apart. “Jisung doesn’t _fumble_ , I mean… who tossed to him?” 

“Chenle.” Comes a smooth, recognizable voice from behind them. 

The 127 players turn as one to see Chittaphon Leechaiyapornku, aka Ten, the ex-Seeker Quidditch correspondent. He’s well known within the upper-echelon teams in the IQL and has written two individual interview pieces and three spotlight articles with 127 over the last two years. 

Ten sits cross-legged three rows behind and slightly to the left of their seats, quick eyes on the match though his words are directed at them. “Admittedly it was a bad toss from Chenle, too soft for his style.”

With a small squeak of horror Yuta turns his attention to the field and then back to Ten, utterly confused. “W-what do you mean? Jisung and Chenle are like fucking _this,_ ” he crosses his fingers for effect. “Their completion ratio is the stuff of dreams.”

Jaehyun giggles at the pun and Yuta blindly waves him off, eyes still on Ten. 

“Didn’t know you were a Dreamer, Yuta…” Ten drawls, lacking the glimmer of humor that normally highlights his gaze. “But you’re not wrong. Jisung and Chenle seem to be crumbling under the weight of their potential.”

“06 and 07? Yeah, they haven’t made a clean pass all game…” Jaehyun chimes in, trading the hat he brought with him for the DREAM branded one and sticking one of the flags under the strap at the back of the cap. 

“But that’s…” Impossible, Yuta wants to scream, twisting back to face the game. “That’s nonsense. Of all the Dreamies— _all_ of them—they were the only two I _wasn’t_ worried about!”

This is when Stray Kids scores again, owing to a rather impressive double-bludger combo against DREAMs new Keeper, Yukhei. Yukhei isn’t bad at his job—Yuta actually thought the reward that came with his risk was worth it during his 127 tryout—but two bludgers at once can really mess with your head, especially for a greenhorn like him. “Dear fuck, where are our Beaters?”

And yes, Yuta did mean to say ‘ _our_ Beaters’.

“They’re also having a bad game.” Ten sighs. “They expected Stray Kids Beaters to be as passive as they were in other seasons but today they’ve brought some real heat from the start. Jaemin and Jeno are still scrambling from the discrepancy.”

‘Crumbling’, ‘scrambling’, these are not words regularly associated with DREAM. _Is this because we stole Mark?_ Yuta’s heart drops into his stomach at the thought, horror creeping through the cracks of his 127 pride. _Did we do this to them?_  

He wants to say, ‘Mark’s not _that_ good’, but that would be a well-proven lie. Mark’s inarguable star quality aside, the rest of DREAM are all fantastic players, each of them uniquely talented and individually strong of heart. Yukhei’s addition couldn’t possibly rattle them so thoroughly, not enough to unnerve the Beaters and break Chenle and Jisung’s hard-wrought connection. 

And what is Renjun doing? Whenever there’s a DREAM Chaser breakdown Renjun always emerges from the background, stealing the scene for a moment as he either goes on to score or sets up a play. He’s always ready to rumble when his Chasers falter.

Yuta knows this is a magical world but as a Chaser himself, he can recognize that DREAMs co-Captain Huang Renjun is a Quidditch magician. He’s an absolute thrill to play against but in the end Yuta would personally love to play _with_ him. 

“Yuta, you clearly know how good they are and can be...” Ten eyes the dakganjeong on the seat next to them with interest, standing smoothly as he indicates the empty chair next to the plate of chicken. “Chicken for info?”

“Chicken for info.” Yuta agrees, nodding to Ten who hops lithely over two rows and plops into his new seat. Jaehyun reaches across Yuta to get at the food himself and Yuta slaps his hand down before snagging a wing with chopsticks and feeding it straight to Jaehyun, almost choking him in his haste. 

Ten helps himself to a piece, consuming it entirely before wiping his mouth and indicating the field. “Right now all of DREAMs individual energies are panicking versions of their normal selves. Their collective energy is… honestly I’ve never seen them like this before, and I’ve been watching closely.”

“Oh, are you writing an article about them?” Jaehyun asks, leaning forward in his seat to get a better look at Ten.

The reporter nods, grabbing another piece of chicken. “I’ve seen a lot of practice so far and they’ve… _become_ something. Something new, something interesting. When their gears really fit they… well, I’m not going to tell an enemy team. Wait for the article.”

So much for ‘chicken for info’ but Ten seems more fidgety than normal, not to mention this is actually the first time Yuta has seen the legend _eat_ before. “Are you… nervous right now? Am I reading that right?”

Ten scoffs but doesn’t deny it. 

“Oh God, you’re a Dreamer too, aren't you?” Jaehyun calls out, rolling his eyes but also unable to fight off a small grin. 

“What can I say…” Ten smiles softly, suddenly showing off DREAM sweatbands on his wrists. In another moment he has a matching sweatband around his head. “I’ve really taken a liking to them. Much more than you dildos in 127.”

Yuta is too stressed to be hurt by that and Jaehyun just genuinely laughs it off.

On the field, Jisung tosses a linedrive meteor of a toss to Chenle that screams right through his hands, the quaffle socking him in the chest with a _thump_ heard even in the stands. Chenle barely gets his fingers on it but has no air left in his lungs to bellow at Jisung as he very, _very_ clearly wants to.  

It’s actually a very Chenle-esque toss, especially coming from someone like Jisung with a considerate, more technically advanced passing technique. 

“It’s like they’ve switched souls…” Ten muses, referencing Chenle’s uncharacteristically soft toss before and Jisung’s odd linedrive now. “... and the receiving bodies are rejecting the swap.”

OKAY, Ten, sir, no need to be so dramatic. Even if it is accurate. 

Suddenly Renjun is in their immediate sight, swearing like a muggle sailor. With an aggravated bellow the Captain extends his legs to get his body higher up his broom, feet snug in their holders as he barely gets his hands on a wobbly pass from Yukhei. The Keeper left his box to complete the toss and they can all hear Renjun’s surprisingly deep bark, _“GET BACK IN YOUR BOX, IDIOT KEEPER.”_

Jaehyun and Yuta both flinch noisily at the rebuke and even Ten wrinkles his nose.

Despite his anxious belligerence Renjun goes on to score a goal with zero help from his other Chasers, but even that drive of his felt like he was trying to remove a tooth with pliers instead of with a spell. Yuta, Jaehyun, and Ten all jump to their feet to cheer for the goal, Jaehyun taking advantage of the DREAM-branded horn to really project his voice. 

Yuta is the last to sit back down and he does so with a dramatic sigh, whipping off his bucket hat and grabbing his butterbeer. He downs the entire bottle in one go and wipes his mouth with another dramatic sigh. “Anyone got anything stronger?”

Ten pulls a charcoal grey flask out of his pocket so smoothly it looks like he conjured it. It's a DREAM branded flask.

“Made this myself, actually." Ten raises the flask. "Doyoung would never allow any remotely adult DREAM merchandise..."

He hands it to Yuta without identification and Yuta unscrews the cap gladly, sniffing it. “What is this?”

“Absinthe.” Ten responds with a flutter of his lashes. “No wormwood in the blend though, I don’t like to trip when I watch Quidditch. Learned _that_ lesson...”

Jaehyun laughs, spinning one of the keychains (the pink one with Jaemin’s face on it) around his forefinger. “Classy, sir."

Yuta dares another sniff, his eyes watering when he gets hit with a huge whiff of anise and a medley of other herbals. He raises the DREAM flask into the air with a hand on his heart. “We drink to DREAM.”

He's pulling from the flask when suddenly Jaehyun chants, “Yo~ DREAM!” and Yuta chokes on his swig in affront. Ten is likewise offended by Jaehyun’s words. “What?”

“You don’t get to say that.” Yuta manages, eyes watering from the absinthe. “The cheer is only for them.”

“Seriously, Jaehyun. That shit is sacrosanct.” Ten shakes his head, snagging the flask from Yuta and taking his own drink. “Haven’t you stolen enough from them?”

It’s like two swords emerge from Yuta and Jaehyun’s sternums from behind, sudden backstabs of _shame._ Jaehyun recovers first. 

“Way to kill the mood, Ten…” He smiles through his reprimand, making grabby hands for the flask. Ten caps it and tosses it over Yuta’s head and Jaehyun almost drops it before taking his own drink. 

Ten narrows his eyes but then shrugs it off. “I… okay I’ll admit that was a _touch_ uncalled for.”

Shaking his head of the aftereffects of the liquor Jaehyun smiles at the reporter and stretches out in his chair, cheeks already pink from the heat and booze. “If you want to get tiffy, take it up with Irene.”

“Now _that’s_ a face-off I’d like to see.” Yuta chortles, grabbing the flask from Jaehyun. 

On the field, Jeno swings by their seats, twisting his broom in a neat drift to get the better of a 180 degree turn around. As soon as he’s pointed in the right direction he uses the leftover momentum to tear back the way he came, heading towards Jaemin singlehandedly trying to defend Chenle from another clever SKZ Beater combination. Jeno’s handsome face is scrunched and his body is tense despite his smooth broom handling.

“They need to rally. Now.” Ten growls, leaning forward in his seat. “No more trying to catch up, no more reclaiming their momentum. Doyoung needs to call a—”

Ten is interrupted by a high whistle, DREAMs Coach Doyoung calling for a time-out. 

 

. . . . . . .

 

Jisung is lost. The echo of Doyoung’s time-out whistle still bounces between his ears, painful and expected. He watches his teammates soar over to their coach in mute horror, an out-of-body experience born from a discordant clash of confusion and understanding. 

DREAM is botching this match. Completely. No one is playing at their best. They’re not even playing at their _worst,_ no, they’ve hit a level lower than worst; an unprecedented level of pure shit. 

 _Watch your language…_ Doyoung’s eternal reprimand flashes through his mind. Jisung actually laughs out loud at the thought. They’ve hit an unprecedented level of pure fucking dirty bitch ass shit today. 

Okay, slow down. Jisung really only swears in his mind but there’s little else he can do to reclaim himself at this point but lean into it. He’s sure the internal monologues of the other Dreamies are filled with similar profanities, even Doyoung. Something is very wrong here and Jisung wants to pretend he doesn’t know what it is and would love to just hope and wait for a rally but he has eyes. And a brain. 

DREAM isn’t clicking. Their newly-forged chemistry in practice doesn’t mean _anything_ if they fall apart as soon as a regulation whistle blows. It’s not that vague _something_ that’s amiss, it’s just them. He sees it in himself, in his overpowered passes and jittery receives. Jeno and Jaemin seem to have forgotten their own power, Yukhei is falling into his worst habits, Donghyuck is being blocked at every turn, and Renjun’s regular grace seems to have abandoned him today. 

Chenle… Jisung’s musings slam to a crashing halt at the thought. He starts to pick together observations about his best friend and their abysmal completions but only gets about halfway into a thought before it all just crumbles under the weight of his performance anxiety. Jisung grips his hands tight around his broom, focusing his attention on the copper-plated tip. 

 _Watch. Think. Play._ Jisung’s regular in-game mantra sounds like a foreign language right now. He’s still hovering on the field, the same spot he froze when Doyoung blew the time out whistle. The rest of DREAM are gathered where they need to be and if he squints he can see half of the team facing him, wondering why on earth he hasn’t returned to them. 

With a jump, he speeds towards them, head hanging, hands still overly tight around his broom. He makes it about halfway before he looks up again to see Chenle, alone, flying to greet him while the rest remain in their circle. A shiver runs up his spine at the thought of Chenle, _only_ Chenle coming to smack his ass back to his teenage years. Chenle coming to rub his face in his failures like a misbehaving pet who tinkled on the couch. 

Jisung slows but continues forward to meet Chenle, alternating between looking at his broom tip and sneaking a quick glance at his friend. What he sees in the split second he dares to is more confusing than DREAMs shit playing. 

Worry, sheer worry. Compassion and confusion underlined by the conviction that Chenle carries with him more consistently than his own wand. He recently dyed his hair a pale lavender and is taking a bit after Jaemin when it comes to growing it out. Jisung likes it, just as he likes every color Chenle decides on—he’s handsome and packs the latent confidence to pull off just about any look. Right now Jisung finds it easier to admire his hair than look at his quickly approaching face.

“Hey there, hotshot.” Chenle calls.

They finally near each other and Chenle drifts to a stop, forcing Jisung to make up the rest of the distance on his own. Chenle has his hands out, palms up, and Jisung knows he wants to grab hands but Jisung can’t seem to pry his fingers from his broom. 

“Jisung, hey. You’re okay, right?” Chenle continues, dropping the use of his (stupid) new nickname and shifting into something soft and sincere. His hands are still loosely outstretched, waiting for him. “Come join us. We’ve never been able to strategize without you.”

Fuck, he’s embarrassed. Jisung actually takes his hands from his broom, intending to cover his face but Chenle intercepts this move, his small hands grabbing Jisung’s wrists light but firm. “Hey, look at me.”

Jisung does, his heart squeezing at the worry in his friend’s eyes. “S-sorry.”

“I mean, fuck them. _I_ need you in this huddle. We’ve always figured everything out together.” Chenle explains with a forced laugh, tugging Jisung forward by his wrists lightly. “You’re not the only one fucking up today, okay? Don’t hide from us. Okay, sure, hide from _them_ , but not from me. Never hide from me.”

“What’s happening to us?” Jisung asks quietly, no fight in him. 

“Stupid shit. Nothing that can’t be fixed, come on,” Chenle winces, letting go of one wrist and slipping his other hand into Jisung’s, floating over so they’re side-by-side. “We’re fixing it now.”

“This isn’t us.”

“No, this is bush league. We are at least finely-trimmed hedge league.” Chenle babbles, making little actual sense but Jisung gets the meaning. 

Jisung squeezes Chenle’s hand once, eyes again on his broom. “What’s with your lame throws today?”

“That’s pretty rich coming from Mr. Linedrive.” Chenle laughs weakly, squeezing back. “I’m overthinking, you’re underthinking… and we’re all just flopping around. Like fish.”

“It’s…” more than that, Jisung knows. But Chenle is right. They need to hash this out as a team. “We need Doyoung.”

Chenle snorts, speeding up and taking his hand from Jisung’s. “Nothing like a lovetap of truth and trust to smack us back into what we are.”

In another moment they’ve entered the circle, Jisung unable to meet anyone’s eyes but Jaemin’s. The Beater shoots him a smile that starts small before illuminating fully and Jisung actually has to look away from the sheer force of his tenderness because he doesn’t deserve it. 

“Good.” Doyoung nods strongly. “Okay. We’re all accounted for, all here to help. Talk to me, kids.”

“They’re not the same Stray Kids.” Jeno jumps in, uncharacteristic and intense as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Defense line is still first-rate but they’ve clearly stepped up the rest. I’m sorry for being shaken by it.”

The first utterance of shame, almost surprising coming from Jeno. He’s a great Captain and player but rarely speaks first, preferring to observe before making any move. Jisung twists his lips, wanting to forgive him immediately but Renjun pipes in before anything else can happen.

“I’m sorry for losing my shit.” Renjun says, nodding to himself. He’s angry, it’s clear from his tense posture and grit teeth, but he only seems to be mad at himself. 

“Sorry for letting them get the better of me.” Jaemin chimes in, gripping his club with white knuckles. “But trust me when I say I’m about to go back out there and actually kill someone."

“If this is what we’re doing right now... I’m really, really, _really_ sorry.” Yukhei starts, wringing his hands. “It’s like I suddenly forgot everything I learned and that’s all on me.”

“I’m sorry I haven't caught the snitch yet.” Donghyuck states plainly, eyes on Renjun. “But much more than that, I’m sorry I can’t be of more help right now. I know you guys better than anyone and what’s happening right now isn’t you. Isn’t _us.”_

Jisung opens his mouth to speak but closes it with a shake of his head. 

Chenle waits a few moments to make sure Jisung wasn’t going to broach his thoughts before speaking. “I’m sorry for playing like I’m ten years old. And doubly sorry to Jisung, just… because.”

The lingering miasma of self-loathing and shame surrounding Jisung suddenly blows away. 

“You’re doing nothing wrong.” Jisung says stubbornly. “I’m the one who threw us out of whack.”

Chenle opens his mouth to deny this but Jisung holds up a hand. “You didn’t. I didn’t either. Neither of us did.” He looks quickly around at his teammates before his eyes flick back down to his broom tip. “I’m sorry they psyched me out. I’m sorry I psyched _myself_ out.”

It _will not_ happen again. 

“Good. We’re all aware now.” Doyoung says, floating into the center of the circle with a sharp nod. “And we’re _all_ forgiven.” 

It shouldn’t be that easy but coming from Doyoung, it really is. The Dreamies all start to relax in their own ways, still a bit perplexed but much, much better. Renjun sidles closer to Yukhei, hovering a bit forward to force himself into the Keeper’s line of sight. Yukhei doesn’t notice at first so Renjun bends low to be able to look up at him, waving a small hand with a smile. 

Yukhei jumps with a little bark before shaking his head and making a weak gesture with his arms. After lightly smacking Yukhei’s forearm, Renjun shakes his head as he speaks quietly, poking their Keeper in the chest. Yukhei grabs Renjun’s forearm, tugging him a bit closer as he hangs his head. 

 _Don't pout,_ Renjun probably said. _I’m sorry,_ Yukhei probably responded. _Don’t apologize to me, apologize to yourself,_ it is not hard for Jisung to fill in the blanks of this conversation so he drags his eyes away from them. Still, he takes his imagined Renjun advice to heart. 

Apologize. You're worth more than you’ve been treating yourself. 

Jisung raises a hand, emboldened. “What… what are we all dealing with right now?”

All eyes turn to him but Jisung has newfound confidence on his side. And Chenle, who looks to him with a strange twinkle in his eye. 

“Oho? Good question, youngest.” Doyoung claps Jisung’s shoulder and moves to leave but cannot help but float back and ruffle his hair. “We’ve apologized, now detail your troubles. Jisung, go.”

Not expecting to be first, Jisung gives himself a moment to think. “I… I don’t know. I can’t seem to predict Chenle’s passes, or Renjun’s. Or Yukhei’s. Normally I look at the situation and, uh, think about it, and it all works out…? But none of the normal, I don’t know, _computation_ is working today.”

Beside him, Chenle nods strongly. “You’ve been winging it. Then there’s me, thinking way too much about what I’m doing. But I mean, it’s not like you’re wearing your Keeper armor anymore and what, am I—”

“—wait, wait.” Donghyuck jumps in. “You’re holding back? Actively?”

“Uh…” Chenle’s face drops. Suddenly he’s embarrassed. “No? Yes. I’m just… yeah. I guess I am holding back.”

“I get the armor thing.” Yukhei says, slapping his chest guard. “And have felt the full force of your throws without it. But so has Renjun, who, you know…”

He trails off, looking to Renjun who is still at his side. Renjun shoots him a sharp glance, daring him to continue. 

“Who is less… body. Has less. Of it. Less body. I mean—don’t look at me like that, you _are_ little.” Yukhei doesn’t heed the warning in Renjun’s eyes. “And yet— _stop_ looking at me—and yet our immensely powerful Captain has been catching your cannonballs since forever. You’ve never thought twice about it, not even in this match.”

True. Despite Renjun’s smaller frame no one ever fears to throw too hard to him. He would rip their arms out of their sockets if they did. 

Jisung wants to say to Chenle, _you’re not going to hurt me_ , but holds his tongue under the scrutiny of the rest. 

“I just… it’s stupid.” Chenle bites, chewing at the inside of his mouth. “We’re okay, right?” 

Of course Chenle decides to air this in public but Jisung can’t say he minds. They look at each other, confused but comfortable, and Jisung nods. Him not telling Chenle about being approached by 127 two months ago was glossed over too quickly and the two of them haven’t taken the time to talk about it. What with Chenle working on new plays as their ace and Jisung taking most of his time to tutor Yukhei on being Keeper, they haven’t really figured out _them_ yet. Jisung and Chenle in their new form as Chasers. 

They, like the rest of the team, thoughtlessly assumed their chemistry would be fine. During practice they always play well together but both have been focusing on their new roles instead of their preexisting compatibility. It wasn’t a priority. 

It’s no one’s fault, just as it’s everyone’s fault. 

“I should have told you about 127. Immediately.” Jisung says suddenly, summoning the nerve to look Chenle straight in the eye. The rest of DREAM hold their breath for this. “I, well, I thought you’d be hurt and there was no reason to explain because I was never going to go to them. But you didn’t… know that. I’m sorry for not telling you immediately.”

This is definitely the most he’s ever spoken during a game huddle but it feels necessary right now. It’s sincere. “I was trying not to hurt you and that’s dumb because you’re the strongest person I know.”

Chenle blushes. Full on, tomato-faced blushing. 

“And it’s _equally_ dumb that you’re trying not to overwhelm me with your throws. What, did you think I’d be mad? Hurt?” Jisung continues before his emotions catch up with him. “I’m tough too. Give me your worst.”

Chenle just looks at him, mouth slightly open before it snaps shut into a pout. “Okay then, you asked for it. Get ready to count your bruises.”

Jaemin and Jeno are watching this interaction with an intensity that blows the rest of the Dreamies’ reactions out of the water. It’s no secret that Jaemin dotes on Jisung like an annoying older brother and Jeno treats Chenle like his favorite cat. The Beaters have always been strangely adjacent to his and Chenle’s relationship and are as committed to the maknaes’ growth as they are to each other. Well, slightly less than they are to each other—Jaemin and Jeno’s effortlessness still strikes Jisung as incredible even though he sees it every single day. 

But it’s not effortless, it can’t be. Their relationship requires as much work as the next, learning and tempering and rebalancing. Jisung has to remember that, apply it to his own interactions with the people around him. Communication is key. Trust and communication.

Okay, starting now Jisung will start airing his thoughts more. Offer his worries and ideas up to the problem-solving prowess of his team. Because they deserve that. So does he.

“Someone else start talking before I cry.” Doyoung fake-blubbers, looking between the two youngest with a painful restraint, physically holding himself back from hugging them. “Status report, go.”

Jeno and Jaemin are fighting a similar fight with themselves while Donghyuck shakes his head knowingly, Yukhei grins toothily, and Renjun gives them a small, pleased smile as though he saw this coming. He probably did. 

“I keep getting Beat.” After a tentative pause Yukhei jumps in first, rubbing a well-earned bludger bruise on his left shoulder. “Double Beat. I think I need more coverage…”

Yukhei is still awkward about asking for help, still worried that he’s a burden to them. His worry is unfounded and Jisung knows that more than anyone else at this point, having taken the reins on leading Yukhei through his Keeper Boot Course. He is still high-risk high-reward and probably always will be. That’s his style.   

Jisung can play any position well but there’s a certain quality to Yukhei that makes him think he’ll surpass whatever Jisung was working towards last season. When he played Keeper Jisung gave his all to the best of his ability but Yukhei can give _more_ than he has, at times slipping down into a place deeper than his own natural ability when he knows everything is on the line. His strength will depend on him being able to bring it to life more regularly.

Jisung doesn’t know if the rest of the Dreamies see that. Of course they see it when it happens, but they don’t recognize it as what it is—the first hints of Keeper flow. For now he’s defining his limits and surveying past them, looking forward to what’s about to come. Honestly Yukhei could become the best there is if only he could control the beast that sleeps in his core.

Plus, every beast needs a tamer, though Jisung considers Renjun to be inherently more bestial than Yukhei could ever be. 

“We’ll cover you.” Jeno says, nodding. His eye smile is missing and in its place is something brutal, something no one in their right mind would dare cross. 

Yukhei isn’t the only one with a beast waiting inside. 

“We should’ve kept a better eye on you.” Jaemin mutters, shaking his bangs out of his face. “Not your fault—you should never have to ask us for cover, ever.”

Jaemin is no tamer, he’s more like elusive, tricky prey for whatever lurks in Jeno. The handsome Beater isn’t as naturally competitive as the rest of them but this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. On the field, Jaemin’s emotional detachment manifests in a unique ability to hyperfocus on the present moment as opposed to giving any energy towards the past or future. Jaemin doesn’t exactly play to win, he plays to play.  

But luckily the rest of the Dreamies are competitive enough to make up for it, almost excessively so. Renjun and Donghyuck alone are competitive enough for three IQL teams. They’re fine. 

“Keep your eyes on the field, not the objective.” Doyoung says, nodding deeply. “You’ve all been so concerned with being ‘yourselves’ that you forgot what that actually is. I’m not going to let you forget who you are. Remember the third practice, when Yukhei finally blocked Renjun?”

Embarrassingly, a small tremor rises through Jisung. Renjun smiles in satisfaction at Doyoung, nodding, already knowing what their Coach is doing here. But he’s not the only one, Jisung knows their coach is about to start reminiscing on all those _moments_ in practice, the times they all overcame a problem by virtue of their own particular strengths. 

Yukhei has to bite both of his lips, sucking them into his mouth in order to avoid grinning like a fool. That really was a hell of a save, the Keeper temporarily overcoming his monster crush in order to get the better of Renjun. It was also the first real glimpse of the sheer power Yukhei possesses. 

“And you Beaters, we _all_ remember when you two somehow achieved perfect physics and trapped each other in close range bludger passing for, what, three minutes? Three minutes. Straight.” 

“Yeah, you assholes almost took a break to wait it out.” Jaemin preens, looking at Jeno across the circle from him. They both nod as one and switch Beater clubs right across the huddle.

“And who can possibly forget Chenle breaking Yukhei’s hand?” Doyoung raises his arms, indicating that the rest of the team should join in this new thread of compliments. “How many bones, ace?”

Chenle throws his purple bangs in front of his face to hide how pleased he is at this. Jisung is also pleased, he loves it when other people compliment their new ace because he gets to keep those praises in his pocket and throw them at Chenle whenever he’s feeling off. 

“14, but half were just fractures.” Chenle responds with a humble shrug. He’s a confident person but he would never take pride in the fact that he basically destroyed Yukhei’s hand. “Still sorry about that, by the way.”

Yukhei waves it off. “Yeah, I take it back. Don’t throw _that_ at Renjun.”

There’s a huge snort of laughter and Jaemin clearly wants to say something but holds himself back. That something is probably about how fucking obvious Yukhei and Renjun’s flirting is by now. They’re cute though, Jisung supports it, especially after hearing Jaemin’s side of his not-so-sordid fuck buddy tale.

Renjun fumes, tossing his head sharply as though to rid it of the slight against him. Or the flirt towards him. It’s definitely both. “Okay, my turn. Remember that time Jeno smacked a bludger and then recovered it all on his own? He took out Donghyuck from _behind.”_

“The only backstab in my entire life I can call fair.” Donghyuck grins, nudging Jeno beside him. There’s a tiny hint of a Mark implication there (the greatest backstab of them all) but Donghyuck really is genuinely focused on praising Jeno. He’s here for this team and wants to do them proud and it’s only slightly because he needs them to beat Mark. 

“Uh, okay, well. Hyuck, you got that snitch in _five,_ you remember?” Jeno turns to Donghyuck, his soft smile once more in place. 

“That was nuts.” Jisung chimes in, remembering the day. “I didn’t get a single hand on the quaffle before you won the game.”

“I’m only as good as the rest of you.” Donghyuck mutters, shrugging. His nonchalance isn’t enough to cover his sincerity. “Can we talk about that one three-on-three when Renjun made all but two of the shots?”

“Only if we talk about Jaemin smacking a bludger so far it forgot to be magical and dropped somewhere into that muggle town…” Renjun bats back, blushing. “So far Jaemin is the closest to actually killing someone.”

“Okay, well _clearl_ —” Doyoung starts his conclusion, only to be interrupted by a whistle from the referee. “Clearly we have a game to win. What’s with you all, I barely even got a word in…”

“I’ve said it before, Coach, we don’t need you.” Donghyuck laughs. “Except for the times that we do. Absolutely. We couldn’t air our grievances without you reminding us that we can. That it’s safe to do so. And you… sometimes... give amazing advice.”

Doyoung… dies? He can be dramatic at the drop of a hat but at this rare praise from Donghyuck he just freezes, everything still but a single twitching eye. The Coach can’t even form words, not until Renjun reaches across the circle for Jeno who grabs his hand in return. 

Before the rest of the Dreamies can get into place, Doyoung breaks out of his shock. “Hey, hey wait a minute.”

Another burst from the referee’s whistle nearly shocks Doyoung off his broom and he goes about his ending comments in a rush. “I… okay. Donghyuck, go catch the snitch for us. Renjun, keep beating them. JenJaem, protect your Keeper until they back off. Yukhei, stay in your box and trust your Beaters. Uh… Chenle and Jisung…”

He tapers off, tilting his head as he looks at the pair of them. “Remember yourselves.”

Like Jisung is going to forget ever again. Please.

 

. . . . . . .

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry no action here, just more things to check off the sports anime list: a bad game, unexpected breakdown of a solid unit, the midgame rally. dont worry, theres more action next!  
> pt2 is mostly written, dont worry, but as fucking usual i wrote too much so i had to split it up into tow. ten flasking it with 127 is worth the extra word count, i think. also bigtime chensung. 
> 
>    
> thanks for reading and sticking here! i just got over something of a hump with this fic so i should be updating more regularly. 
> 
> ~  
>  
> 
> talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/jenoscreamingo) or just leave a comment below~ comments are more fulfilling than all the chicken ten can steal


	8. ball licking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> well, we have to play a game, don't we? all the dreamies have something to prove to themselves and to each other. there's another famous person in the audience but no one notices. chenle and jisung make it work, renjun and his beaters get payback, yukhei has a day, and donghyuck is a killer. 
> 
> last time we ended with DREAM still in the huddle, ready to rally and hold hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part 2 of the first match! real quidditch play! 
> 
>  
> 
> im new to aerial physics, cut me some slack meb?

. . . . . . .

 

“Ready?” Renjun asks, raising a tricky, self-satisfied eyebrow. 

Jeno snorts and nods. “Ready.” 

They reach across the huddle to each other, grabbing hands and locking eyes. Jisung doesn’t know if they sat down and planned it together or if it was all Doyoung’s idea but ever since becoming Captains, Jeno and Renjun have always positioned themselves directly across from each other during huddles. They take it upon themselves to balance the team, to be equally accessible and impartial—even going so far as to rarely actually been seen together. 

This isn’t to say they don’t have their alone time as Captains, Jisung knows they carve out an hour here and there to grab a meal and put their heads together. Their strengths differ widely—Jeno on the physical and steadfast end with Renjun on the technique and intellect side—and for the most part they’ve been sticking with what they already know they excel at. Because of this, any Dreamie can go to the Captain that best suits their specific problem whenever they arise. It’s rare that Jeno’s and Renjun’s expertise matches up well enough to necessitate both of them working on the same issue (unless the budding issue is named Jaemin, of course, but that’s it’s own thing.)

So when Jeno and Renjun _do_ sync up, like they do when they bisect their team cheer with their handhold, it has an impact on whoever witnesses it. Jeno and Renjun just _works_ , and it works because they are two of the most honest individuals Jisung knows. Honest about themselves to the other, trusting with their respective weaknesses and strengths. 

This actually means quite a lot. It takes Jeno a very long time to warm up to people and Renjun knows how to keep people at arm’s length. Although they already knew each other very well before becoming Captains, the trust that runs between them now is untouchable.

Renjun and Jeno lock gazes for a few long moments before smirking together and chanting, “Yoooo~ooo DREAM!”

“JJEOREO JUJA FIGHTI~ING!”

“YO. DREAM!” 

“JJEOREO. JUJA. FIGHTING!”

The match begins again with an exploding start similar to the first toss-up only this time its Chenle who carries the quaffle away from the scuffle, heading towards DREAMs goalposts and slowing halfway between their goals and midfield. Driven by some impulse he can’t quantify, Jisung tears towards SKZs goals, hanging on the very edge of the field as he goes.

Donghyuck flies next to him, fieldside, using his star presence to distract away from Jisung. It works, the Seeker attracts the attention of one opponent Beater and one Chaser and takes the opportunity to fly higher and draw the two SKZ players away with him as he does. This is standard SKZ style: double-team Donghyuck at any given opportunity—it’s probably why he’s never gotten the snitch against them and, as such, is a rather good strategy. 

But right now it leaves Jisung unmanned, the stupidity of which often outweighs the benefit of double-blocking Donghyuck. 

“EYES UP, HOTSHOT!” Chenle bellows from DREAMs quarterfield. SKZs new offensive strategy has two enemy Chasers coming directly at Chenle for a block but they’re not fast enough. No one is ever fast enough for Chenle.

Between midnight passing practice and best friend bickering, through party nights and lazy mornings at the apartment they share, somewhere along the line the two of them became fraternally obligated to pass to each other whenever possible. They’ve never talked about it because there was never any need to and despite their poor playing today, there really is no safer pass from Chenle or Jisung than to the other. The two of them need to prove something right now, and it’s not that they’re good at Quidditch. 

It’s that people fucking _wish_ they could play like them.

Still, a flicker of trepidation flits through Jisung’s mind as he watches Chenle wind up for this particular throw. This will be the first time they’ve used this toss outside of practice, a new technique that Chenle has been working on with Yukhei. When it does land (and the completion percentage is still only at 40% so far) it’s a play that blows the collective mind. One of those moments that forces all players to stop and reflect on their career. 

A moment that defines Quidditch.

Chenle’s linedrives have always been lethal but he does have to adhere to physics like the rest of them and the longer the distance the slower the projectile becomes. A pass that should fly straight will arc without the proper strength and technique behind it and Chenle has never been taught how to add pure strength into a throw of any distance beyond scoring range. Then Yukhei joined the gang, a natural when it comes to physical power. They’ve been working together to expand Chenle’s linedrive range and in return Chenle has been helping Yukhei work on quick, accurate tosses. 

Jisung is pretty far away from his best friend but even from a distance he can see that the windup is spot-fucking-on. It’s the debut of the Longdrive, one of the shiny new weapons in DREAMs arsenal. Predictably, the most creative name that Chenle and Yukhei could come up with for the new technique is the literal description of what happens but that’s okay. No need to be clever or pompous when the toss speaks for itself. 

Chenle releases the drive, a full throw that relies on core and shoulder muscle and takes all the strength he possesses. It’s an exhausting toss, especially for someone with a lithe frame like him, which is why Doyoung has limited Chenle to only two Longdrives per match regardless of completion rate.

High risk, high reward.

Despite its poor stats, Chenle’s pass sings true, audibly. The quaffle sears across the field with a strength and trajectory that is sure to blow the mind of anyone who knows enough about Quidditch to understand the nature of the feat. You see passes like this from Keepers, not Chasers.

It’s so striking, so unparalleled that the SKZ players don’t know how to react besides dropped jaws all around. Hell, it takes DREAM themselves a beat to catch up. 

The quaffle reaches Jisung before he can even blink and he soars into center field by the SKZ goalposts to receive, watching it approach, watching every other player in his peripheries and synthesizing all the information. He’s clear of any other player, there’s no wind to speak of, the sun is behind him. The opposing Keeper is still rebooting from the sheer speed of the play. Computation complete.  

Easily, Jisung snatches the toss with one large hand. The catch is energy-efficient, dextrous, and borderline batshit. You see catches like this from Keepers, not Chasers.

 

. . . . . . .

 

Yuta mutters a belligerent statement in Japanese as he watches Chenle’s throw. He leans back into his seat before thinking better of it and rises to a stand. 

“Wait...  _what?”_ Jaehyun asks, making motions to stand as well but ends up keeping his seat. 

 _“That’s_ what I’m talking about!” Ten almost growls, getting to his feet as well. “Yuta, talk to me.”

Yuta watched the windup and his eyes are locked on the soaring quaffle as he responds. “That throw shouldn’t have been able to come from that body. I can’t do that. I don’t think anyone in 127 can do that right now.”

And then Jisung just catches it, a perfect one-handed snatch. A receive nearly as difficult as the longdrive that the young genius makes look effortless. Geniuses, plural, because that was a two-way street.

“KILL IT, JISUNG!!” Yuta bellows.

 

. . . . . . .

 

A terrifying toss, a chilling catch. 

Quaffle in hand, Jisung swings around, positioning himself a mere three meters from the Keeper. His field sense tells him that four SKZ players are racing to catch up with him, as well as Jeno and Jaemin. While it’s always comforting to have the Beaters at his back, Jisung doesn’t need them right now.

The SKZ Keeper’s eyes blow out at Jisung’s sudden approach and he tentatively extends his arms and legs out in a wide block. Jisung immediately diagnoses the particular block style as one defending against a softer toss, something tricky or lofty. Chenle just whipped something hard so he makes the split-second prediction that Jisung is going to do something soft.  

Good attempt but wrong call—SKZ Hyunjin just picked paper to Jisung’s scissors. DREAMs youngest has no choice but to mess him up for the error.

Channeling his best friend, Jisung wastes no time tossing an overpowered linedrive straight at the center hoop. Thinking he would go for one of the side hoops, Hyunjin jumps to defend the left side which lets Jisung’s throw sail easily through the center goal. 

Damn. More Keepers should try their hands at Chaser and experience the swapped-perspective that comes with it. Jisung can read Keepers because he was one. Jisung can break them because he remembers each and every single time _he_ was broken.

Wait, okay. Maybe Jisung shouldn’t get ahead of himself, he only scored one goal. A terrifying pass, a chilling catch, an obvious goal.

The Dreamers in the crowd roar, most of them suddenly on their feet, ecstatic that DREAM looks to be functioning again. Jisung claps at himself and his team and spins around to greet the Beaters who start hitting him on the back and shoulder as soon as they're within arm's length. Then Chenle is there in a flash, eyes bright and hands out and Jisung grabs at them, shaking up and down before pulling him in for a side-hug.  

Okay, yeah, this is what’s supposed to be happening. 

Yukhei bellows from his position, heeding Renjun’s warning and sticking to his box despite how he clearly wants to come revel. Renjun catches up with them with a warbling battle cry, smacking Jisung on the back with the rest.

“Well if _that_ wasn’t a kick in the butt to the rest of us, I don’t know what is.” Jeno laughs, a bit of his natural cheer returning. 

“Yeah, I’m fucking pissed now.” Renjun says, shaking his head. “We can’t let the babies show the rest of us up, can we?”

“I dunno, I’d watch a whole match of Jisung and Chenle being better than everyone else…” Jaemin muses, busy re-doing his ponytail. Both Renjun and Jeno narrow their eyes at him. “Hey, hey, let's quit the death glare! Now we have no choice but to remind everybody that the rest of us are kinda good.”

Donghyuck is busy taking this time to look for the snitch, but his energy is with them as always. Yukhei is busy whining from his goalposts, enough for Donghyuck to fly towards him and either amp him up or make fun of him. 

“Guess you have to prove it.” Chenle takes up the challenge of his seniors, hands squared on his hips.

Renjun snorts. “Oh, you think we won’t?”

“By all means, try your best.” Jisung shakes his hair out of his eyes in a rare display of confidence.

A whistle blows, interrupting what would have no doubt been some superiority snark out of Renjun. The Captain shakes his head and leads the rest in flying back to center field, calling, “We all have things to prove, Dreamies! You better fucking _fly_.”

Jeno and Jaemin hang back for a short moment, swapping their Beater clubs before crossing them together with a sharp,  _smack._

As the game restarts, SKZ with possession, the Dreamies do fucking fly. Renjun burns to redeem himself and immediately startles everyone by intercepting SKZs first quaffle pass with another of those strange jumping extensions off his broom. This is not a new move of Renjun’s, nothing like the Longdrive—in fact it’s more likely a result of practicing against Yukhei’s rather poor aim and adapting to his new lot in life. Renjun has to all but hurl himself from his broom in order to extend his reach like this and it looks tiring but Renjun really has been saving their asses with it.

Then again that's no real surprise, Renjun blossoms under duress. 

After his unexpectedly athletic interception Renjun goes to bellow at his Beaters for cover but before he even opens his mouth Jeno and Jaemin are flanking him in a flash, ready to clear a path straight to the SKZ goal. They’re just ‘the Beaters’ to Jisung, but not to Renjun. Jeno and Jaemin are _his_ Beaters and their three-man combinations really are the strongest in DREAMs arsenal, even since Mark was with them. 

Surprising no one, Renjun is too competitive to let Chenle and Jisung make an expert play together without responding with a display of his own mastery. The two young Chasers guard the midfield line, watching their seniors work and protecting from any rebound. It's kind of inspiring to see Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin just fuck shit up together. 

They don’t have long to wait. Renjun and his Beaters fly straight forward in a close isosceles formation, bold and powerful, begging SKZ to throw a bludger their way despite how dangerous it is to attack two Beaters as talented as Jeno and Jaemin. This play is about forcing their hand—Renjun is too tricky to allow into scoring range so SKZ has no choice but to try and stop him, even if it means basically handing bludgers to Jeno and Jaemin.

After a moment’s hesitation on SKZs part, a bludger eventually sings in a soft hook from the right (Jeno’s side) and a moment later more of a fireball streaks straight for them from Jaemin’s side on the left. Owing to the discrepancy in speed and trajectory the bludgers meet the DREAM Beaters at nearly the same moment, which is actually pretty good bludger work from SKZ.

But it takes more than ‘good’ to get the better of Jaemin and Jeno.

With two massive cracks of their clubs, the DREAM Beaters both smack the bludgers straight forward, one at the opposing Keeper and one at a defensive Chaser. Renjun surges forward, his Beaters trailing slightly behind in a follow-up guard that proves needless. SKZs Keeper barely avoids Jeno’s bludger but it throws him off balance; the Chaser is less lucky and takes Jaemin’s strike right to his gut. 

The last lines of defense now satisfyingly shattered, Renjun shouts melodically as he tosses the quaffle in an easy underhand into the left ring. Sure, he made the Beaters do all the work, but it’s Renjun’s trust and mastery of them that allowed for any of that to be attempted in the first place. 

Jisung slows to a stop in awe of the play, a ferocious Beater combination double-strike paving the way for the quiet playmaker. Creating chaos, directing energy… yeah, okay, fine. His hyungs are pretty damn good at this game too. Point made. 

 

. . . . . . .

 

“I like Jaemin.” Jaehyun declares suddenly, strongly. “He’s the ponytail, right? Number 05?”

Yuta is speechless after Renjun’s goal, slouching back in his seat as he fans his face with his hat. 

“Yeah, ponytail.” Ten confirms, taking a celebratory swig of absinthe. “Ah Jaemin... he's an interesting one. He overflirts to control people’s perceptions of him _._ Easy-going and flexible but he’s got a strong core both emotionally and physically. Contrary to what we just saw he hits harder but less accurately than Jeno, 03.” 

Eyes lighting up with a sweet smile, Jaehyun starts to spin the Jaemin keychain around his finger again. “Sounds like Johnny…”

“See, I was going to say, ‘sounds like Jaehyun’.” Yuta pipes up, smirking. He looks to the score, ascertaining that DREAM is finally catching up. 

It’s now 80:50, SKZ. 

 

. . . . . . .

 

The mutual respect they hold for each other was never lost (never _could_ be lost) but reaffirming it adds another layer to DREAMs growing confidence. They have the momentum now and surge back into play with lucid adrenaline. Having successfully showed his shit to them all, Renjun returns to work with the other Chasers once they reclaim possession of the quaffle, leading them in a close-passing drive that knits through the SKZ defenses.

After a bit of back-and-forth in quarterfield without further progress, Jisung rushes the goals, distracting enough for Renjun to quietly hand the quaffle off to Chenle, letting him get close enough pop a neat little toss through SKZs right hoop. 

80:60, SKZ.

Three minutes after play resumes two blurs of movement clue everyone into a sudden Seeker battle, Donghyuck and SKZs Felix suddenly neck-and-neck as they tear a wide loop around the DREAM goalposts. Donghyuck barely holds off the inside position of the curve (an advantageous spot during a turn in a race) but when they even out Felix is only a heartbeat behind him. 

Thinking quickly, Jeno finds a sluggish bludger and hits it right at the two Seekers, enemy and comrade both. He does this because he believes theirs is the better Seeker of the two, and so any obstacle for both of them would be more effective on Felix than Donghyuck. Anything to break their deadlock, anything for an edge.

The bludger gets within three meters of the Seekers when Donghyuck suddenly decelerates and then brings himself to a halt, leaving Felix to chase right into the bludger. It slams hard into the SKZ Seeker’s left shoulder, protected by magically reinforced leather but painful enough to almost knock him off his broom. Half-conscious, Felix slouches backward on his broom and floats unsteadily downward. A whistle blows and Donghyuck is the closest to the injured Seeker so he speeds back to him, steadying the opponent on his broom with an airy grin. 

Holy shit. Donghyuck didn’t see the snitch at all, he just tricked his opponent into racing for it and led him straight into a bludger. 

 

. . . . . . .

 

Doyoung cannot believe his eyes and blinks them rapidly to bring some sense to what just happened. No. Wait, yes, yes, Donghyuck really just did that. He did it with finesse and control, dancing across the line of plausible ambiguity and straight into a moral red zone.

Donghyuck just orchestrated a knock-out and Doyoung hopes beyond hope that it was just because he was bored, simply a flight of whimsy. Flippancy is better than what Doyoung thinks he just saw in Donghyuck's eyes:

Malice.

 

. . . . . . .

 

“That was _nasty…”_ Ten purrs, cheeks flushed and eyes alight. “Danced the lamb straight to the slaughter.”

“Not even close to the snitch, huh?” Yuta sighs, missing Ten’s point entirely. 

Jaehyun breathes out deeply, eyes wide and brows furrowed. “There _was_ no snitch, Yuta.” 

“If anything, there was an imaginary snitch.” Ten adds, acknowledging Jaehyun’s ability to have seen (or not seen) that with a quick, deep nod. “Donghyuck triggered their Seeker and faked seeing the snitch in order to lead Felix into Jeno’s bludger. So nasty. I wouldn’t want to Seek against him.”

Yuta barks out a laugh. “I feel like that’s saying a lot coming from you.”

“If the Stray Kids Seeker didn’t turn and flinch away, 03s bludger would have nailed his head. Boom, lights out.” Jaehyun informs suddenly, his fingers knit with his elbows on the chair arms. 

Ten gapes and Yuta whistles lowly, ending with, “Oh. Damn.”

 

. . . . . . .

 

They may have a battered Seeker but SKZ is never to be trifled with, especially when they’re forced back on the defensive. They’ve always excelled on defense, leaned on it as their core style and function. That’s why Jisung is shocked when they do the opposite. 

The SKZ Keeper saves a throw of Chenle’s before they take a leaf out of DREAMs book and rally immediately, all three of their Chasers already in a position to receive their Keeper’s toss.  

Fuuuuck.

Jisung grits his teeth, rushing back to DREAMs goals with more swears on his tongue. It’s time for him to start playing more defensively and actually be of help to Yukhei. The Keeper is technically the only Dreamie who hasn’t yet rallied himself with a personal feat, which is perfectly fine. No one keeps statistics on stuff like this, well, except maybe Jisung but that’s just how his brain works and there’s no malevolence to it.

But really, Yukhei is a statistical mess. Not because he’s actually a mess but because he’s a talented rookie and simply hasn’t played enough for his stats to actually reveal anything about him. Save-to-miss ratio aside, there’s no question in his mind that Jisung feels safe when it’s Yukhei protecting their goals. That’s a lot for an ex-Keeper to ask for and Yukhei delivers enough for Jisung to play his hardest as Chaser, free of the nagging impulse to save a goal instead of score one. 

Jisung curses himself for being at the other end of the field now that Yukhei’s getting ganked by all three SKZ Chasers at once. He’s too focused to shout in support but hears the Dreamers in the crowd swell, raising their grey and orange banners as they cheer for Yukhei. 

In another moment Jisung is finally within quarterfield but he’s too late—after a series of tricky passes between the three the quaffle finally lands in the hands of the SKZ ace, who guns it straight for Yukhei’s left hoop. Miraculously, Yukhei actually gets his fingers on such a fast shot on goal but there’s enough power behind the quaffle to carry it through the hoop despite the tipped trajectory.

90:60, SKZ.

Incredible effort aside, the fact is that Yukhei scored on himself. Anyone would take a psychological hit from that, even though the end result would have been the same if he did or didn’t manage to tip the quaffle. It’s another error in a difficult match, one where Yukhei has been pulling the short end of their strategy sticks from the start. 

Seeking to remedy that, Jisung reaches Yukhei at the goals and mumbles apologies for not being there sooner but the Keeper just waves him off with a weak smile. He’s sincerely jovial but that joy is clearly in short supply.

“I, I don’t even... shit.” Yukhei shakes his head of whatever sentence he was forming, grabbing what bangs peak from underneath his Keeper’s helmet. “I’m sorry, I just…?”

Yukhei ending his sentence with a questioning inflection tugs at Jisung’s heartstrings. “You can put it behind you, right? You have to. You’re doing as well as you can without proper coverage—this is always what happens when we go heavy on offense.”

“It shouldn’t matter.” Yukhei mutters, shaking his head before wringing out his hands and slapping his cheeks with his palms. 

The first hit doesn’t take so Yukhei slaps himself again, this time in full view of Jaemin who’s been flying over as soon as the goal was scored. The Beater’s expression is passive, almost frozen until he sees Yukhei slap himself and breaks out right into worry and shock.

“Hey, whoa! What are—don’t hit yourself, what th—” Jaemin pipes up, speeding to an angry, abrupt halt when Jisung holds up a hand. 

“Leave it be, hyung.” Jisung mutters to Jaemin, “I’ve got this.”

Jaemin looks at Yukhei’s red cheeks and opens his mouth in dissent before his eyes flick to Jisung. Though he may baby Jisung the most, Jaemin knows him better than almost anyone (besides Chenle, duh) and understands Jisung’s message just from his expression: _this is Keeper business._  

“Shake it off, Yukhei!” Jaemin changes gears immediately, halting on his broom before reversing slowly. “Don’t forget you almost got the better of him by your fingertips alone.”

 

 . . . . . . .

 

Taeil tries, he really tries not to eavesdrop on the thicket of grey and orange-clad DREAM supporters on his left. Not because his moral code frowns upon eavesdropping but because they’re mainly talking nonsense, tearing down the new player because he’s an easy target. 

_“The hot newbie, the Keeper. He’s kinda…?”_

_“Fucking up? Yeah. It’s his debut, too, you think he’d be at his best.”_

_“Well, you know, some people just can’t cut it.”_

_“They’re seriously tearing him apart…”_

Don’t they know a true Dreamer supports all team members, always? A snort gurgles its way out of Taeil’s throat but no one hears it. They’re simply wrong about Wong Yukhei and hopefully they just don’t understand the sport enough to see that yet. Taeil’s eyes drift to a piece of graph paper floating just above his left thigh and a glossy, copper feathered pen hovering above the paper on standby. 

It’s an enchanted pen, loosely controlled by his own thoughts as he observes Wong Yukhei play Quidditch. The top third of his design parchment is taken up by observational notes like,  _‘leans too far forward = top-heavy’,_ and _‘extend handle by his own hand’s width’._ The rest of his notes contain hand-drawn sketches of a boomstick in the unmistakable loose but steady design style of Moontale, often lauded as the best broomsmith of the modern age. 

Moontale stopped making brooms more than a decade ago. He quietly came out of retirement just to create a one-of-a-kind suite of brooms for his local IQL team three years ago. He hasn't made a broom since.

But Moon Taeil? He’s just a neighborhood Dreamer.

Besides the self-writing quill and broomstick designs on his lap, Taeil sticks out in one other way. A pair of top of the line omnioculars hangs on a strap around his neck, a custom pair with three more specialty viewing lenses than standard. With them, Taeil can see all, from the sweat on Jeno’s brow to the dark roots Chenle has growing out.

Hidden under the camouflage of a nondescript DREAM fan, Taeil is here to support his favorite team. Moontale is also here, determining whether or not their new Keeper deserves his own  _Nightmare Z_. Wong Yukhei is clumsy on whatever broom he’s riding (a poorly maintained Thunderbolt VI by the looks of it), he’s still bad at blind reversing, and he sails out of his Keeper’s Box every other minute as though pulled to a siren. 

But Wong Yukhei has outstanding reflexes and physical strength. He also has this quiet, tough courage underneath those charming smiles and outstanding body proportions. Taeil has only watched one match but he’s already seen Yukhei learn a lesson and apply it in-game. He’s a natural, plain and simple. 

And not like it matters (which it very much does, in fact) but Taeil can see that Yukhei also fits well with DREAM. He takes their teasing and gives it back in kind, but always kinder than originally dished out. Yukhei cheers for every Dreamie for every little thing they do. More than that, Taeil has seen enough of the rest of DREAM to know they feel comfortable with their new Keeper. 

If they’ve accepted him, Moontale has no reason not to as well. 

 

. . . . . . .

 

The match resumes with DREAM in possession and a scuffle quickly breaks out around the SKZ goal, leaving Yukhei, Jisung and Donghyuck the only three on their own side of the pitch. The Seeker is making a slow loop a few meters above the ground, eyes everywhere, slowly rolling until he’s upside-down and observing the pitch from a different perspective. Jisung doesn’t know why he keeps his eyes on Donghyuck instead of the match, but he does. 

And fuck, does he not regret it. 

Donghyuck ends his loop near the center of the pitch, toes brushing the grass as he flips back up again. Driven by sense or premonition or sheer dumb luck, the Seeker quickly looks directly up, facing the sun. Within a heartbeat he rockets directly upward, suddenly higher than the goals, up to the very top of the pitch range. 

Jisung isn’t the only one distracted—players and audience alike can’t help but stop everything and watch Donghyuck fly. The SKZ Seeker is too far away but nonetheless attempts to catch up to him. Someone hits a rogue bludger at Donghyuck but it swings too far down to be at all dangerous.

His broom tip pointing at the sun, Donghyuck decelerates quickly as he reaches the uppermost boundary of the Quidditch pitch before finally killing his broom of all its momentum, causing it to hang momentarily in the sky. Barely hanging onto his broom, Donghyuck’s inertia catches up with him, slowly propelling his body upwards into thin air.   

With only one hand holding himself to his broom, Donghyuck extends his free hand to the very apex of his reach and just... catches the snitch. 

The pitch is quiet for a moment before Donghyuck secures himself back on his broom again and lets himself tumble backwards into a swift dive. He soars back into a swell of cacophony, cheers and horn blasts, a few explosions of confetti from the stands. Donghyuck adds his own roar to the din at midfield as the rest of DREAM meets him with bellows of their own. 

“I… I… oh man, Hyuck you crazy bastard, you just _did_ that! Just—”

“—like he decided, ‘oh, I guess I’ll just catch the snitch now’ like fucking nothin—”

“—stop swearing! All of you—”

“—SUNNY, YOU TALENTED CREATUR—”

Jisung says nothing but wiggles on his broom, too much energy still trapped in his body to be stationary. They won. No, they didn’t just win, they fucked up, rallied, and came around to finally beat their rivals.

It takes a bit but Donghyuck finally gets overwhelmed by all the attention and leads the pack in zooming away on a victory lap. At first he takes a loop with Renjun and Chenle before the two Chasers break off to join Jisung and the Seeker continues his victory circuit alone, snitch still tight in hand. 

 

. . . . . . .

 

After recovering from the aftermath of Donghyuck’s sudden win, Ten, Yuta, and Jaehyun all lean back in their seats, completely spent. Jaehyun takes a small swig of the flask before passing it to Yuta who takes his own drink, silent. It ends in Ten’s hand, who finishes it off with a satisfied sigh before pocketing it and leaning forward in his seat, hands clutching the balcony. 

“That’s what I’m talking about. Wake up from the dream.” He mutters quietly. 

Donghyuck makes two lengthy, dramatic victory loops around the pitch, showing off the snitch and showcasing his teammates to the audience as he passes them. 

“Hey. So.” Jaehyun starts, sitting up straight in his seat. “Do you think they know we’re here?” 

Yuta likewise straightens up, suddenly tense. “Oh, well… nah.”

“Nah?” Ten questions with a smirk.

Donghyuck suddenly ends his laps barely 5 meters in front of their faces, making heavy eye contact with Yuta, then Jaehyun. 

“Maybe yah.” Yuta whispers meekly, lips barely moving.

Eyes still on them, Donghyuck tosses the snitch from his left hand to his right and raises it to his lips. Yuta thinks he’s going to kiss it but the DREAM Seeker shoots that thought straight down to hell. 

No, Donghyuck _licks_ the snitch, eyes hot and heavy and still locked on the 127 players.

“Oh~ho.” Ten singsongs with a pleased grin. 

Yuta fizzles out like a half-assed spell, collapsing back into his chair. 

Jaehyun chortles with a blush when Donghyuck finally, chastely kisses the snitch before flying back to his teammates. “So… uh, yeah.  _Definitely_ not safe for Mark.”

Ten laughs once before shaking his head of his mirth. There’s a wicked, thoughtful expression on his face now and Yuta can’t help but feel nervous despite how it most likely has nothing to do with him.

“Explain your face, please.” Yuta asks nicely, suddenly extremely tired. 

“Oh, I just finally decided something.” Ten hums musically, eyes still on the DREAM Seeker. “I mean, I would be remiss in letting such a talent out into the world without a guiding star…”

Jaehyun raises his eyebrows. “You mean…”

“I’m going to mentor Lee Donghyuck.”

 

. . . . . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ten wants to mentor donghyuck. moontale is boutsta make another nightmare for the new dreamie. dream kind of pulled their shit together here. yukhei might be a bit down though, uh oh..
> 
> but uh other than that i have a [twitter](https://twitter.com/jenoscreamingo) if you want to talk to me
> 
> next chapter has hyuck pov, get ready


	9. the hummingbird dimension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> donghyuck thinks and looks and thinks and looks and might find it advisable to slow it all down. seeker training isn't about becoming a better seeker, its about becoming a better person. yukhei earns his worth, mark steals a hat, and hyuck chills out a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every scene here is pretty much happening at once
> 
>  

. . . . . . .

 

It’s so… mundane. 

The house is small, cute, in keeping with the aesthetic of the rest of the neighborhood but unquestionably the best-maintained of the lot. There’s a vintage feel to it, comfortable and modest. Someone who lives here cares a lot about their landscaping, clear from the tree-lined courtyard and the perfectly tended grass. A dignified stone walkway leads to a few wooden steps up to a small raised porch and then to a red door with a golden knocker. The rest of the house seems to be made of a cream-colored wood with a good third covered by at least two different species of ivy lush enough to just toe the line of overgrown. It’s almost too perfect, too sweet and cute to be his actual destination.

It’s just unervingly mundane, here meaning _‘not of the Magical World’_ instead of _‘dull as fuck’._ The Muggle house itself is strikingly lovely, obviously well lived-in and well loved. The very sight of it triggers an uncharacteristic domestic longing inside of Donghyuck, a hint at the life he could lead on top of his career as an athlete. Hell, he’d probably shack up with a Muggle if it meant living in a place like this. 

It’s not that Donghyuck doesn’t like and respect Muggles (because he totally does, he met Jaemin’s parents last year and they were delightful) but he just hasn’t spent a ton of time in non-magical locations and never really knows how to behave when he does. Unfortunately Donghyuck’s regular (read: magical) street smarts do not translate well in the Muggle world. It puts him off his game, not the best thing to happen on the very first day of his special training. 

(Oh damn, unless it’s _part_ of the special training? He would not put it past Chittapuikn Leepoahnfhjsadkyu to start them off with some psychological warfare.) 

With a small frown, Donghyuck looks down at the scrap of parchment in his hand detailing a hastily scrawled address. Doyoung almost didn’t give it to him after their latest 1:1 meeting. 

 _“For the record, I’m ONLY allowing this because there’s little else I can teach you at this point.”_ Doyoung growled, looking very much like he wanted to rip the address right back out of his hand. _“And for all his faults Ten does know how to nurture athletic potential. I will never say I fully trust him, but know that I fully trust YOU.”_

Today is the day. Donghyuck rose shortly before dawn and after a forty-five minute broom ride and a bit (okay, a big bit) of navigational error he touched down on the sidewalk in front of his destination. His eyes flick from the parchment to the vine-covered address plate and back again, brows furrowing even deeper as he ascertains he’s right on the money. This is it, this Muggle house in a Muggle neighborhood is where he is supposed to be right now.

“The fuck…?” Donghyuck mutters quietly, turning around on the sidewalk to see if there are any onlookers, any Muggles who might have seen a cute, windswept young man descend from the sky on a broomstick at 6 in the morning.

Because that would be bad, like, legal repercussions-bad. Donghyuck didn’t know he was going into a Muggle zone and didn’t prepare any concealment charms for him and his broom upon arrival. What’s he going to do if a Muggle sees him right now, start sweeping the street? Actually, yes, that might be the best bet.

A shock of anxiety strikes up his spine and Donghyuck makes the split-second decision to dash off the sidewalk and over the stone walkway, jumping over the stairs and landing lightly on the porch. Having achieved a measure of cover, he surreptitiously looks over his shoulder, checking for any early morning peepers—wait did that curtain just twitch?

Nope, he’s clear. Probably. Donghyuck’s heartbeat is crazy fast as he walks to the front door, eyes caught on a clean but generic welcome mat and a walnut-sized golden knocker. Upon closer inspection the knocker is a real snitch magically attached to the door. Donghyuck sighs deeply, finally finding something from his own world to anchor him. So he’s not just walking up to a random Muggle house with a broomstick, that’s a relief.

In some neighbor’s yard a dog starts barking, spurring Donghyuck into grabbing the knocker gingerly. He probably imagines the spark that travels through his fingers as soon as he makes contact and the snitch lazily unfolds its wings. This snitch-knocker is probably special to Ten somehow and Donghyuck wonders which of his matches it came from. World Cup, maybe? 

Lost in his thoughts like an idiot, Donghyuck doesn’t notice the red door opening inward before he even knocked. Suddenly he’s looking up at a handsome man with otherworldly dimples wearing a brown, flour-smudged apron. The stranger grins in warm welcome but there’s a strange edge to the smile and Donghyuck’s instincts immediately scream, _do not mess with this man._

“Lee Donghyuck, right?” He tilts his head slightly.

Donghyuck nods, sweat beading on the back of his neck even in the crisp morning air. 

“I’m Qian Kun, Chittaphon’s husband. Welcome to our home.” Kun bows slightly, still with that ‘pure’ smile of his, and Donghyuck bows much deeper in response. He can translate that smile now: _you are welcome here but heaven help you if you break anything._

So Donghyuck is just going to have to avoid vases and windows for the duration of his visit, he can do that. 

Kun turns his body, inviting Donghyuck in with a sweep of his arm. “I hope you found the place without much trouble.”

Uhm? “Thank you for inviting me, it was no trouble at all.” Donghyuck lies awkwardly as he walks past Kun and slips off his shoes in favor of a pair of forest green indoor slippers. “But I didn’t know this was in a Muggle neighborhood so I may have, you know... made a bit of a scene. Maybe. Not sure yet.”

“Let me guess, Pureblood?” Kun raises a fond, amused eyebrow. 

Donghyuck nods.

Kun laughs sincerely, putting a hand on his hip. “Idiots, the lot of you. Chittaphon included. You’ve been surrounded by magic your whole lives and have no idea how to behave in my world. Where’s your sense of self-preservation?”

“Your… world?” Donghyuck asks stupidly before realizing the implication. “You’re a Muggle?”

“I am proudly non-magical, aware of things like the global economy and basic math. But fret not, Chittaphon gets a lot of visitors so I’ve gotten quite good at coming up with vaguely plausible reasons for people popping up out of literal nowhere.” Kun points to his chest with his thumb before leading Donghyuck further into the house. As soon as he gets two steps in, he smells something baking in the kitchen, something sweet and spiced and delicious. 

Okay. The world-renowned ex-Seeker Quidditch correspondent Ten is married to a handsome Muggle who knows math and they live together in a modest Muggle house. Good for him—everyone deserves a real home. Donghyuck’s steps are slow as he casts his gaze over the kitchen and living room, immediately both comfortable and impressed. 

It’s a single-story house designed with earthy, neutral tones and natural light in mind, a clean and well-organized mix of western and eastern influences. There are quite a few pictures of Ten and Kun on the walls and in bookcases, some of them moving, some not. On the mantle are various Quidditch trophies and medals intermixed with framed articles and award plaques and Donghyuck moves a bit closer, eager to investigate Kun's area of expertise.  

He can only see one award clearly, but it’s perfectly descriptive: _Restaurateur of the Year_. So it looks like Kun could be some titan of the culinary world and successfully runs and owns a few killer restaurants. What the hell, how did Kun and Ten even meet?

“Would you like something to drink? I just brewed a pot of hibiscus tea and I can put some coffee on as well, if you’d prefer.” Kun offers, already floating into the kitchen and grabbing a green mug from the cupboards. A young grey and white cat is sprawled luxuriously across the kitchen island and Kun tickles its belly before shoving it gently off the countertop. 

The mug is already in Kun’s hand—a fantastically breakable object but Donghyuck doesn’t get to say no here, does he? “Tea would be lovely, thank you.”

He opens his mouth to ask about Ten’s whereabouts but Kun beats him to it. 

“Chittaphon is in the back garden, looking at things.” Kun hands Donghyuck his mug of hibiscus tea and turns back to his kitchen, smoothing out his apron. “I’ll bring out the cookies when they’re done.”

Awards on the mantelpiece, cookies baked at dawn; this is all building up to be far more wholesome than Donghyuck would have ever thought someone as flamboyant and mercurial as Ten would ever go for. Then again, Donghyuck doesn’t know Ten, not really; he doesn’t get to pass judgment like that. The shared life of Ten and Kun that surrounds him is full and real, the product of a true partnership. That strange wistfulness when Donghyuck first saw the house strikes again, clawing at his gut, reminding him that all he has to look forward to after a hard day is a small studio apartment and a few neglected houseplants. 

Kun leads Donghyuck through the rest of the house with a hand on the small of his back, finally reaching a sliding door. Hanging back slightly, he gives Donghyuck another of those dangerous smiles, shooing him out as one might with a dog. 

“Good luck, Lee Donghyuck.” Kun bids. “Try not to let him intimidate you.”

Donghyuck chokes out a laugh before remembering to be polite. “No offense but _you_ intimidate me much more than he does.”

“Oh?” Kun loves this. “Then you might just survive.”

Well shit. Donghyuck gives Kun another deep bow before sliding the back door open and walking onto a back porch similar in style to the one at the front of the house. There are outdoor slippers waiting for him and he trades his house shoes for these before politely sliding the door shut behind him. 

The back garden is vaguely similar to the front courtyard but with much less structure and rigidity, achieving a more natural beauty through imperfection and controlled chaos. There’s a greater variety of plants and trees here, a few benches and chairs set up at strategic spots and even an orderly, well-tended vegetable garden. Donghyuck takes a step down off the back porch onto a soft bed of moss that nearly swallows his foot whole. A trio of tree sparrows flit beneath the leaves of lush trees, coming within a yard of Donghyuck’s head and the Seeker instinctively keeps them in focus until they’re out of sight. The birds lead his eyes straight to his new mentor.

Ten lounges in one of two wooden lawn chairs near the end of the garden, his back to Donghyuck but most likely aware of his presence. He’s looking at a messy bramble of a flowering shrub, unmoving, and Donghyuck pads closer, leaving the bed of moss in favor of taking a winding path of slate stones that lead to various features in the garden. Half shrouded in leaf-dappled shade, Ten stares at a bramble of absolutely nothing.

“You can come closer, I don’t bite.” Ten calls airily, waving a hand but still not turning to look at Donghyuck. Ten keeps his voice low, respecting the peace of the garden. 

“Now that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one before...” Donghyuck bats back, finally making up the rest of the distance to Ten with a mug of tea in one hand and his broom in the other. 

The Quidditch legend is dressed in casual Muggle athleisure—a baggy white tank and lightweight sweatpants that cinch just under the knees. No shoes. He’s sprawled in the lawn chair, one leg hooked over a chair arm with the other leg crossed on top, obviously comfortable despite the stretch. 

“Sit.” Ten nods at the empty chair beside him. “Are the cookies done yet?”

Donghyuck sits slowly, dropping his broom on the ground and balancing his mug on the armchair. “The…? Oh. N-no, I don’t think so…”

“Damn. Well get ready to have your world rocked. Kuns cookies are transcendent and I only get dessert-for-breakfast when we have guests over.”

Donghyuck doesn’t doubt a single word of that. “You’re welcome, then.”

With a look of mock offense Ten huffs and takes a sip of tea. 

After a few viscerally awkward seconds of silence Donghyuck opens his mouth to speak, thinks better of it, and chews at his bottom lip instead. Here’s the thing, the thing that Donghyuck has been wrestling with ever since Ten expressed his desire to personally mentor him: 

They don’t really get along.

Ten can rub people the wrong way as if he was born to do just that and what do you know, so can Donghyuck. He doesn’t think they dislike each other but they butt heads over everything that doesn’t matter, which is confusing and energy-intensive. Donghyuck is loath to admit it but the two of them are actually not so dissimilar—in fact, they’re _too_ similar. That’s why they clash. 

Donghyuck just doesn’t know how to feel about Ten or even how to _talk_ to him. He sees enough of himself in the older man to pick up on both the good and bad things they have in common. Maybe he’s rejecting the things he doesn’t like about himself that he sees in Ten, the vanity and ego and drama. 

But he’s incredibly drawn to the things they do share because those are the things he loves about himself and his life. Wit, wordplay, flying through the air and hunting a snitch. They both adapt and compete. They're both insightful and sensitive. 

Sensitive here meaning, _‘perceptive through the use of the five senses’_ instead of _‘easily hurt’_. 

(Probably easily hurt as well.) 

Donghyuck is unsettled, torn between his esteem for Ten and the vexation he brings. He has no idea if this mentorship experiment is going to work, but for his sake (and for Doyoung, who _trusts_ him) there is no other option left but to throw himself wholly into it and absorb everything he possibly can.

“There’s a lot going on in your noggin right now but for the life of me, I have no idea what any of it is.” Ten laughs quietly, tilting his head and shooting Donghyuck a sweet, bright smile. “Classic Gemini—quick-witted and complicated.”

It’s too perfect of a grin not to be fake as fuck so Donghyuck mirrors the smile exactly, one-upping him with a small flutter of his eyelashes. They have barely spoken and they’re already locked in some sort of game that doesn’t seem to have any rules whatsoever. Okay, game on.

“You forgot curious.” Donghyuck tacks on, still matching his smile. It’s ambiguous because he could be curious about a _lot_ of things. It’s believable because he really _is_ curious about a lot of things. 

He and Ten may be fundamentally incompatible (Gemini-Pisces, big yikes) but they are both heavy hitters when it comes to duking it out in a battle of charm and flirtation. Donghyuck and Jaemin sometimes get into little flirting chicken matches but those aren't even close to the level of whatever is happening right now. This is somehow more and less of a game than that but Donghyuck isn’t out of his depth quite yet. 

“Aha, looks like I’m not the only one with a poker face…” Ten’s grin tapers off and he takes his legs off the chair arm in favor of winding them into a pretzel. 

“Poker?” 

“Muggle card game that relies on mind games and bluffing. It means you can control your expressions and read those of others. The trick isn’t being perfectly unreadable, it’s controlling what they _do_ see.” Ten explains. 

The point is well put and Donghyuck nods in understanding. “You beguile them.”

Ten’s eyebrows shoot up, impressed. “Oh my, _excellent_ word choice. That’s exactly what it is, and holy hell are you capable of it. You made that painfully evident when you baited poor Felix into that bludger.”

Ah, yeah. _That._ The trap (the beguilement) absolutely should have been called as a foul but the ref fell for the same trick as SKZs Seeker and saw no infraction to call out. Sometimes there are bad calls, both good and bad, but the game goes on. Afterall, in the words of every rabid sports parent on the entire planet, ‘it’s only illegal if you get caught’. 

Donghyuck’s beguilement. Let's capitalize it: Beguilement. It’s another weapon in DREAMs toolkit along with Chenle’s deservingly capitalized Longdrive and what they’ve taken to calling the Renjun Reach. 

“It’s not like it was premeditated.” Donghyuck defends, looking into his hibiscus tea with the smallest of pouts. He does harbor guilt for how everything turned out but in the end the play was more akin to manslaughter than actual first-degree murder. “I just wanted to lead him on a fake chase and then Jeno hit that bludger right at us and—”

“—opportunity and adrenaline took it the rest of the way.” Ten finishes, surprisingly soft. “I’m sure Doyoung thinks you strayed too far into the dark on that one, premeditated or not.”

“He definitely does.” Donghyuck admits quietly, looking down at the hands holding his mug. Doyoung’s disappointment was plain at their last 1:1, but they haven’t exactly talked it through yet. 

Ten sighs softly. “Chin up, buttercup.”

Donghyuck chokes out a laugh but does in fact raise his head and turn to Ten.

“If he’s really so disappointed that you... 'betrayed your morality' or some other sanctimonious nonsense, why do you think he allowed you to come my way, hm? Compared to him, I _emanate_ moral ambiguity.” Ten asks, raising a saucy eyebrow. 

Actually…? Donghyuck hadn’t considered that. “I really don’t know.”

Leaning back into his chair with satisfaction, Ten takes a long drink of tea before speaking again. “It’s because he _trusts_ you. He trusts you to know the difference between right and wrong and come back to him even after absorbing all a heathen like me has to offer.”

_I will never fully trust him, but know that I fully trust YOU._

It’s as heartening as it is heavy. Donghyuck honestly didn’t understand the significance or the pressure of Doyoung’s trust until now and it all comes slamming into him at once—affection, anxiety, a newly discovered intimacy between him and his Coach. 

“And there it goes again, your head’s buzzing like a kicked beehive.” Ten cackles in amusement. “Talk to me if you want, or don't. I'm okay with either."

Donghyuck’s multiple lines of thought fizzle out into nothing. Poof, gone. He wants to talk, he doesn’t want to talk, he doesn’t know why he would or should but also can’t find a reason _not_ to confide in Ten. On top of all that emotional nonsense brewing on the back-burner, he can’t seem to put together enough words to make a single sentence that isn’t, _“fuck me, I don’t fucking know.”_

So Donghyuck says nothing. 

The resulting silence drags but is eventually interrupted by the back door sliding open and Donghyuck breathes the quietest sigh of relief at the distraction. Both he and Ten whip their heads around as one to see Kun, still apron-clad, bringing them a plate of cookies and a fresh pot of tea on a tray. 

It’s probably the most beautiful thing Donghyuck has ever seen in his entire life. 

“Cookies!” Ten drops the playful, superior tone he’s been taking with Donghyuck in favor of something higher and cuter. His Kun-voice, probably. By the way he’s eyeing those treats though, it might actually just be his cookie-voice. Ten is excited enough for Donghyuck to finally believe him when he says dawn cookies are a rare and delectable event. 

He may have to consider adopting his own cookie-voice if that’s what it takes to get some of that. 

“Chai-spiced sugar cookies.” Kun explains, hopping lithely over the stones in the garden to get to them without dropping a single cookie or spilling the tea. Pure art. Also Donghyuck may be developing a bit of a crush on Ten’s husband but nobody needs to know that.   

“I got you, hon.” Ten whips out his wand from somewhere (midair probably) and levitates the tray right out of Kun’s hands when he reaches them, setting it to hover between their two chairs. 

He calls him _hon_. Donghyuck immediately files that fact away for later use. 

“Donghyuck, if you need anything else just let me know.” 

Ten pouts. “What about me?”

“Get it yourself, hon.” Kun rolls his eyes and strolls back into the house. 

 _Hon._ Donghyuck just can’t seem to get over that. He’s been called quite a few terms of endearment over his life; ‘babe’, ‘kitten’, ‘sugar’— _love_ , _whispered hotly over the skin of his throat_ —but none of those carry the same sheer domestic contentment as ‘hon’. Hell, not even ‘honey’ does.

Ten grabs a cookie with Seeker’s reflexes and holds it before his eyes. “Okay, I have an activity planned but there is nothing on earth more important than these cookies right now.”

“Agreed.” Donghyuck takes his own cookie.

Kun's cookies are indeed mind-blowing and Donghyuck’s crush intensifies. The two of them chow through about half before Ten tops off both his and Donghyuck’s tea and they drift back into silence. Unseen wind chimes ring out quietly, peacefully, and Donghyuck gives it a good few minutes before clearing his throat. 

“So, uh, what’s this ‘activity’ you mentioned?” Donghyuck asks, breaking the spell of a calm dawn. 

“I’m already doing it.” Ten scoffs. 

“Huh?”

“Birdwatching.” 

“Excuse me?”

Ten nods without looking at him. “Watching birds.”

“Bird—”

“—watching. Yes.”

The fuck? “Why?” Donghyuck questions, sincerely puzzled. 

Instead of explaining further, Ten just pointedly nods at what he’s looking at—that same messy flowering shrub as before. Donghyuck’s eyes follow, immediately noticing that it’s not one plant but two, bright orange and yellow honeysuckle vines twisting up and through a bush with a smattering of small, white flowers. The vines twist up and around and sometimes into thin air in order to get at sunlight, spinning in loops and curlicues that Donghyuck has the impulse to reach out and let curl around his finger.

Then he sees it, a dart of movement that captures his gaze for a heartbeat before hiding away. Soon comes another, and by the third sighting Donghyuck’s eyes have adjusted to the speed of the creature and can see the iridescence of its feathers. He knows this animal, even if it _is_ mundane. 

“Oh,” Donghyuck breathes in happy surprise. “A hummingbird.” He keeps looking. “Birds, plural.”

“Quite a few, in fact.” Ten nods with a small smile. “We're just going to watch them for a while."

Status check: Donghyuck is drinking tea, eating cookies, and hasn’t stopped watching the amazing range of movement and precision of the hummingbirds since he spotted the first one. Morning dew reflects off the grass and leaves, flowers are fully open for the day, and he has already kicked off his outdoor slippers. Donghyuck is A-okay with this game plan and shows assent with a silent nod.

They don’t talk for a while.

 

. . . . . . .

 

Yukhei’s hands are visibly trembling and his eyes bug out at the sight of it—his very own _Nightmare Z_ held almost religiously by a strange, cute man named Moontale. Obviously his real name isn’t Moontale but Yukhei has already forgotten what it is besides the impression that it sounds a lot like Moontale anyway. 

Behind him, Jisung taps out a drumroll on his chest while Chenle imitates a trumpet fanfare by singing through a closed fist and Jaemin kind of just yodels. Renjun and Jeno are on either side of Yukhei, keeping a slight distance and making decidedly less noise. Every Dreamie is here to witness this ceremony except Sunny, currently suffering under his first day of training with Ten. 

Donghyuck’s (yes, Yukhei does know his real name) absence is a shame because he’s clever and dramatic and would make this strange ceremony even more soul-stirring but five out of six isn’t bad. Plus the Seeker kind of morally owes Yukhei one now and having Lee Donghyuck owe you a favor is more powerful than the wand in his pocket. 

Doyoung is also here, standing behind Moontale with a look of restrained pride. The Coach had never promised Yukhei his own _Nightmare Z—_ in fact, Doyoung had clearly expressed that he would probably never get one. That’s fine and has always been fine. He took that in stride because this opportunity is enough, he is happy and importantly, _not_ greedy. Sure, Yukhei has entertained the thought once or twice, about what it would be like to ride a _Nightmare_ , but in the end it’s never bothered him that he doesn’t have one. 

So obviously, receiving one is the absolute best surprise. Will DREAM ever stop making his life better? No? Okay, deal. 

“Wong Yukhei.” Moontale says slowly, with effortlessly hilarious articulation, and the three youngest Dreamies end their fanfare at once. “I hereby declare you worthy of every Dreamer and Dreamie, and as such, worthy of the responsibility and privilege of a _Nightmare_.”

There’s no script for this sort of thing, for the bestowing of a one-of-a-kind Moontale broom to its first and last rider. Still, Yukhei leans into the majesty of the moment and falls to his knees in respect. Respect for the broom, respect for Moontale, the genius behind the _Nightmare_ s. Respect for DREAM and everything they are, himself included. 

“I, Wong Yukhei, am humbled by the responsibility of such a bestowment and will start kicking immediate ass. Post-haste.” 

Moontale takes a step closer, wiggling his eyebrows. “You ready to fly like your teammates?”

“Fucking _yes._ ”

“Here you go then.” Taeil just kind of plops the broom into Yukhei’s hands unceremoniously, without any of the pomp and circumstance of before. Oh, okay.

Yukhei has a split second to pout at the lazy handoff before his entire _life_ changes. With the first touch of his _Nightmare Z_ , warmth trickles from the broom into his fingers, up to his hands and arms, making its way his head and heart simultaneously. Holy mother nature and everything she touches, he has _never_ felt anything like this. It’s freefall without the fear, the essence of pure flight.

These brooms are special. This day is special and he really needed it. Sure, Yukhei knows he _is_ a part of DREAM, he sees it in their eyes and feels it in his bones and can’t imagine _not_ being a part of this. But after not only his poor performance in the Stray Kids match but also his inability to rally himself like the rest of his teammates, Yukhei has been feeling a bit out of sorts. Something is missing or broken or not yet properly grown—something is just not _there_ yet.

More than needing to practice his Quidditch or social skills, what Yukhei needs is just a confirmation of what he believes to be true: they chose him, he is theirs. This ceremony sure as shit accomplished that. He is DREAMs, and DREAM is his. 

It takes every single part of Yukehi to stop himself from looking over at Renjun, to check and see if he's smiling, if he’s laughing, if he’s proud. But that can come later and instead he gets to his feet and mounts his new broom, reveling in the rush of warmth and love as he hovers there with them. 

“Holy shit.” Yukhei looks at the tip of the broom handle to Moontale and then to Doyoung, eyes wide. “Wh—uh, wow.”

‘Wow.’ That’s actually the only thing he can say. It’s mind-blowing and life-affirming and all sorts of good and almost sweeps the remainder of his insecurities aside. 

Yukhei turns in midair to address the Dreamies, beaming. “This whole time you guys have been flying like _this?_ No wonder I can barely keep up with you!”

“It’s about goddamn time.” Renjun grins ferally. “Maybe now we can stop going easy on you in practice.”

Yukhei just smiles good naturedly. “Bring it, babe~”

Babe. Baaaaaaaaabe. That just came out of his mouth. Just came flying right out, attaching itself to the end of his challenge because it felt good there rhythmically and he’s in such a great mood he feels like he leveled up. Yukhei makes shaky eye contact with Renjun and freezes solid immediately in the face of his gorgon-caliber stare.

“What did you just call me?” Renjun asks quietly, expression oddly unreadable. 

“ _Milord._ Bring it, Milord~” Yukhei repeats his same singsong weakly. 

Renjun’s face falls. It’s the exact opposite of what Yukhei was expecting but the dejected expression is only there for a breath before it drifts away into something neutral and guarded. Wait. Did he _like_ being called babe?

The group starts to break apart before Yukhei can figure out what just happened. Jeno and Renjun are the first to dart away, elbows hooked, off to talk some Captain business. Moontale and Doyoung return to the locker rooms. Chenle and Jisung stay on the field for more tossing practice. 

Which leaves Jaemin who mounts his own broom and hovers next to Yukhei, lightly socking him in the shoulder. “Hey there, big guy.”

“Hey yourself.” Yukhei shoots back, shaking off his Renjun Crazies with a smile. The smile isn’t forced but isn’t bright either—his smiles rarely shine when he's alone with Jaemin and that’s just not fair to the affectionate Beater, especially when he hasn’t done anything to warrant Yukhei being weird around him. 

He’s just a bit jealous, that’s all. Jealous of Jaemin’s past and present relationship with Renjun which, again, is unfair and stupid.

“Save the ‘babe’s until you're alone.” Jaemin advises suddenly, watching Renjun’s back as he walks across the field with Jeno. "He's more honest one-on-one."

“H-heh?”

“Or just kiss him, see what happens.” Jaemin claps him on the back with a sincere smile. “He does like to be kept on his toes...”

The Beater flies off with a quick finger gun, leaving Yukhei in a state of giddy bewilderment. 

So he _did_ like ‘babe’. Good to know.

 

. . . . . . .

 

Mark opens the door to the 127 locker room with a wrinkled nose of disgust. No matter what, there is no amount of magic that can overcome the aura of sweat, socks, and sweaty socks produced over time by seven adult men. It’s his short mid-morning break between physical conditioning and a mandatory Chaser meeting and Mark is using the time to return a pair of knee-guards he borrowed from Jaehyun yesterday. 

The Beaters have been in a closed-door meeting with Yeri for thirty minutes and will continue for another hour, so Jaehyun just asked Mark to bring the guards to his locker instead. Jaehyun’s locker is three away from Mark’s and three times cleaner, a bit sparse compared to the contents of other 127 players’ lockers. There’s an old moving photo of Jaehyun riding a broom for the first time attached to the back of the locker door as well as an extra Beaters club and clean, folded clothes.

It’s when Mark neatly puts the knee-guards on top of the clothes that he sees it—a charcoal cap with orange embroidered lettering and magenta accents hanging on one of the locker hooks. It’s a DREAM hat. Oh right, Jaehyun has a DREAM hat. The font and styling of the hat are different from last year, a subtle rebrand that Mark quite likes. It’s at once more professional and more severe, a serious maturation without losing exactly what they were.

A month ago seeing this hat would have sent Mark into a downward tizzy. Two weeks ago being ambushed by such a clear display of DREAM would have hurt like a bruise—a sore but superficial wound that’s easy to forget. 

And right now? There’s an echo of pain, if he can call it that. Nostalgia. Of course DREAM would rebrand after he left. That’s just business and after all, Quidditch is as much a business as anything. 

The cap is in Mark’s hands before he had a mind to grab it and he looks at the embroidered lettering fondly, sadly, but mostly with pride. He scratches at the M on the hat, biting his bottom lip to stifle a smile. 

“Business, huh?” He asks no one. 

Making up his mind, Mark sneaks Jaehyun’s DREAM hat from his locker and tucks it into his sports bag. The Beater probably won’t notice and even if he does, Mark is the exact last person Jaehyun would ever think would steal this particular thing from him. If you add that to the fact that Yuta has publicly called Jaehyun out for stealing the hat from _him_ in the first place, Mark has plausible deniability _and_ a likelier villain. 

He walks out of the locker room whistling an improvised tune, a smile in his eyes and a stolen hat in his bag.

 

. . . . . . .

 

_“—ey, hey buttercup, you still in this dimension?”_

Technically no. Donghyuck can barely hear Ten through his hummingbird-induced trance but it’s enough to pull him right out of it. “Hm? Yeah.”

The light is different, stronger and more golden than it was when he arrived. The air is hotter and drier, heavy with a small roar of cicadas and bird calls. Everything around him is saturated and appealing, at once loud and quiet. Ten is looking at him through relaxed, contented eyes as he takes another cookie. 

“How do you feel?” He asks gently, like a masseuse at the end of a session. 

“Limitless.” Spills from Donghyuck’s mouth. “I don’t know. Everything. Both sleepy and energetic. I… what even happened?”

“Mesmerizing little things, hummingbirds.” Ten beams. “The only creatures in this world besides a Snidget that can fly backwards. Beautiful creatures, aggressive and energetic but the harder you focus, the less you see.”

Donghyuck nods. The hummingbirds are almost harder to keep an eye on than the snitch itself. “How long have we…?”

Ten hums sweetly. “Little over an hour.”

What. No. Donghyuck looks up at the sun for confirmation, his jaw dropping. “What? No way. Did you roofie me?”

“Oh _please._ The flying formations and precision of movement hypnotized you into a trance state.” His mentor continues. “Me too, actually. That’s why we did it. Birdwatching slows down your brain, enhances your visual acuity and pattern recognition through soft focus: a way of looking at everything at once instead of one particular thing.”

“All that from watching some sweet little birds, huh?” Donghyuck whistles in sarcastic admiration. 

“Don’t sass me.” Ten reprimands. “How did you find them in the first place, when you first looked at the bush?” 

“With my eyeballs.” 

“I’m serious.” 

Well, okay. It’s hard to explain how to _see_ though. “At first I caught one in my peripheral, adapted to its velocity, and read the flight patterns until my eyes adjusted to their movements.”

“Good. That’s exactly what I’m talking about, that soft focus. Being aware of what’s in your panoramic field of vision instead of focusing all your attention and energy on one thing at a time.” 

Donghyuck purses his lips but nods. “Makes sense. That’s… well, that’s something I need to work on. I hyperfocus too much.”

“There’s a time and place for everything.” Ten nods sagely. “I’m glad you took that as a lesson.” 

What? “Was that not… the lesson I was supposed to learn?” 

“There was no lesson here.” Ten teases fondly. “Just about an hour of birdwatching. You went about your own journey on the wings of hummingbirds and I’m glad you can analyze what you gained this time so quickly.”  

“That can’t be the only point..."

“The _point_ was to slow down your brain so your soul could do some searching.” Ten lightly slaps Donghyuck’s shoulder. “I birdwatch every day I can. Sometimes I come to huge revelations, sometimes I fall asleep, sometimes the rhythms and patterns lull me into a state of pure peace and lucidity. It has made me into a better Seeker and person.”

“Lemme guess, my homework is doing this every day?” Donghyuck can’t say he minds. That was one of the most peaceful and relieving hours in his entire life, all due to some tea, cookies, and birds. 

“Every week, at least. It doesn’t have to be hummingbirds either, you can apply the same principles to any bird.” Ten flaps his hands to mimic a bird. “Who knows what you might discover within yourself when this type of meditation becomes routine?”

Donghyuck hums to himself, unsurprised when he reveals, “I really do feel… just… _better._ Clear and connected and powerful—but it’s a gentle sort of power. I don’t really know how to describe it…”

“Peace can be very hard to describe.” Ten admits with a nod. “Same thing with love.” 

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “A masterclass segue. You’ve been waiting to ask, huh?” _He’s gonna bring up Mark, he’s gonna bring up Mark he’s gonna bri—_

“—I was referring to the boundless love my husband and I share,” Ten flutters his lashes before shooting Donghyuck a wicked grin, “but I _guess_ we can talk about your Lee Mark. Clearly your brain wants to go there and a Gemini’s heart is in their head, so…”

Still freshly enveloped by the aftereffects of the hummingbird dimension, Donghyuck forgives himself for slipping and offhandedly bringing up Mark, even if it was just to himself. He laughs at Ten’s choice of words, “my Lee Mark, huh?”

“I have it on good authority that he was really fucking miserable in the beginning when he joined 127.” Ten smiles despite the tone of his utterance. 

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Donghyuck laughs neutrally. 

“No. But you feel _something_ , right? Right around here,” Ten jokingly indicates his left breast. “A little squeeze, a little ache.”

“Yes.” Donghyuck admits after a beat. “Some sick satisfaction for his pain. I’m glad he felt what he did to us because we’re still dealing with the aftermath.” 

“Maybe some are dealing a bit worse than others?” Ten ventures, annoyingly correct. “Which means some were closer than others—closer than close.”

Still correct. 

“You remember when I first met you guys that day on the pitch? You were beating up on poor Yukhei and then I asked who boned?” Ten asks, somehow elegant despite his colloquial belligerence. 

Donghyuck snorts, nodding. “Kinda wanted to see Jaemin swing a haymaker at you, to be honest.”

“I said ‘three’ before I narrowed in on Jaemin and sweet Renjun.” Ten starts to giggle. “See, I’m _never_ wrong about boning. I didn’t understand what I saw at the time and puzzled over it longer than I care to admit. Then it hit me—you blipped on the sex radar because it was strangely half-true, wasn’t it?”

“What, that I fucked an _ex-_ Dreamie?” Donghyuck decides to take a bit of control over where this is going. So yeah, whatever, he and Mark once did the deed under the effects of an entire bottle of Firewhiskey and then never mentioned it again, what about it? 

It’s not like Donghyuck thinks about that night _all the time_. The hazy fragments of neon memories, the burn of whiskey on his tongue— _'_ _love'_ , _whispered hotly over the skin of his throat—_ Donghyuck pieces them together, sorts fact from fiction. If it’s true that you alter a memory every time you revisit it, maybe he’s just beguiling _himself_ at this point. 

“Just went straight for the reveal, huh. I do admire the nerve.” Ten admits with a proud nod. “What came of it?”

He isn’t expecting this question so that’s why Donghyuck blurts, “Absolutely fucking nothing. Might as well have never happened. Probably never happened at all."

Ten’s eyebrows shoot up into his bangs. “Whoa there—”

“He doesn’t remember and I barely do. Can we just bury this?” Donghyuck asks, tired instead of angry.  

“So Mark doesn’t acknowledge or even remember a momentous event between you _and_ he leaves your ass behind for better prospects? No wonder Doyoung is so sensitive lately…” Ten muses, biting at the inside of his cheek. 

“What do you mean?” Donghyuck immediately jumps at this, both a distraction from Mark and because Ten is hinting at Coach’s insufferably mysterious past. 

“Let’s just say Kim Doyoung is probably the person who best understands what you’re going through.” Ten admits wistfully, looking at Donghyuck through the hazy lens of memory. “Talk to him.”

“Don’t tell me… you and him?” Donghyuck ventures, shaking his head at this even as the words leave his mouth. 

Ten sticks out his tongue before shaking his head with an incredulous laugh. “Ew, no way. But I know what happened and… admittedly bear some responsibility for what went down. But look at you, maneuvering for information so smoothly, but you’ll get no more from me. Talk to Doyoung.”

There’s a sense of finality to the statement and Donghyuck knows not to prod further. 

“So!” Ten claps his hands loudly, breaking the tension. “How was the hummingbird dimension?”

Donghyuck takes another cookie, worried that his time in this beautiful garden is coming to an end. “For lack of a better word… spiritual.”

“' _For lack of a better word’,_ my goodness.” Ten mocks him, shaking his head. “The kneejerk hedging of a proud atheist. Well I am, for lack of a better word, pleased. Am I wrong in assuming that you quite enjoyed this activity and are already mapping out the best birdwatching locations in your area?”

Donghyuck drags away from thoughts of his apartment roof and the top riser of Quidditch stands, the best birdwatching locations in his area. Ten doesn’t need to know that. “I can get behind a good meditation every now and then.”

“Good.” Ten looks over his shoulder suddenly and Donghyuck mimics him. 

Kun is standing on the back porch without his apron, now wearing fashionably casual Muggle clothes. He points at his watch with a strained smile. 

“Ah, that time already?” Ten laughs before heaving a heavy sigh. “Wow, time got away from us, didn’t it? I actually... really enjoyed myself this morning, far more than I expected to—” Donghyuck scoffs at this but his mentor plows on, “—but! The hubby and I have a prior brunch engagement and I still need to put my Muggle-face on.” 

Donghyuck is on his feet in a second, bowing. “Thank you for taking the time to, well, share your peace with me. I won’t forget it. Now that I’ve left the hummingbird dimension all I want to do is dive right back in. Thank you for teaching me how to get there.”

Because that’s pretty much the only thing Ten actually  _did._ Donghyuck did the rest. He unclenched his mind, he willingly went into the Mark zone, he learned his own lessons—Ten just introduced him to the place he needed to go.

Ten looks at him, strangely taken. “When I decided to mentor you, I mentally prepared myself to deal with something feral and dangerous.”

“Ouch.” Donghyuck comments, hand over his heart as he leans down to grab his broom and mug. 

“Sure, you’re dangerous as all hell, but you’re not feral.” Ten flicks his wand at the tray of tea and cookies, charming it to hover behind him. “If I had any doubts about this thing we’re doing here, they have been happily dispelled.”

Donghyuck follows as Ten leads the way back through the garden, hopping gleefully over the stones. Ten looks back at him to deliver, “I think this could be the start of something incredible. Something _historical_. I’m going to make you the best there is.”

Oh my. Okay. Game on. Donghyuck shoots his mentor a sleazy smirk. “I’ll settle for ‘better than you’, but I appreciate your enthusiasm.” 

Kun, clearly a fan of efficiency, ushers both Seekers back into the house with long-winded exasperation. Ten must be the late runner of the two, a trait which Donghyuck probably could have seen coming based on everything he’s learned today. They’re all back in the tiled kitchen before Donghyuck knows it and suddenly Kun is handing him a large dishware container of to-go cookies in exchange for the empty mug in his hand. 

And of course, of _course,_ because things can’t just go completely favorably, Donghyuck fumbles the mug right at the handoff. Time slows, almost as it does in a Quidditch game, and Donghyuck is helpless as he watches the ceramic mug crash on the floor, shards spinning in slow motion across the kitchen tiles. 

Just as slowly, Donghyuck looks from the shattered mug up to Kun’s face, still handsome and smiling and terrifying. 

_You are welcome here but heaven help you if you break anything._

Oh no. 

Donghyuck’s wand is in his hand as at least three potential courses of action come to mind. He goes with the third, uttering, " _Reparo_ ” meekly. The green mug fixes itself and with another quick wand flick, it flies back up into his hand. Donghyuck very carefully hands it over to Kun. No harm no foul, right? _Right?_

“Nice save…” Ten mutters appreciatively from behind him as Kun makes quick work of washing the mug in the sink and placing it on the drying rack. “By the way, you didn’t give him the rest of the cookies, did you? You _did,_ didn’t you? You fiend.”

“Cookies are for guests, hon.” Kun shoots at Ten but nods to Donghyuck, who bows back. “Now go get ready for brunch.”

“Okay, fuck. Chill. I’ll be in touch, buttercup.” Ten walks backwards down the hall to their bedroom, using two fingers to point at his eyes and then straight at Donghyuck’s. “I’m glad you’re not as insufferable as I initially thought.” 

“And to you as well,” Donghyuck returns the hand gesture. _I see you_ , it says. In the secret language of Seekers it means, _I respect you._

Then Ten disappears and Kun quickly ushers Donghyuck and his to-go cookies to the door. Donghyuck quickly puts his shoes back on and Kun holds him by his shoulder to steady his balance. “I think that went well, actually.”

Donghyuck looks up at him, his right shoe half-tied. “You… both of you are equally surprised this actually worked.”

“And you, Mr. Lee, make three.” Kun rhymes, clearly on purpose. “I’m glad you exceeded all of our expectations.”

Donghyuck blushes, attention back on his fingers fumbling with this laces. “Always happy to prove someone wrong.”

“Even yourself.” Kun smiles, this time more paternal than dangerous. He opens the door for Donghyuck, making sure he has a good grip on the cookie platter. “Those cookies are for all the Dreamies, alright? Don't hog.”

Like fuck they are. No, these are going straight to Donghyuck’s apartment and no, he does not intend to return the dishware.

“Fly well, Lee Donghyuck. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again.” Kun all but shoves him out of the house, quickly shutting the door behind him. 

Suddenly Donghyuck is back in the Muggle world, armed with a beautiful broomstick and a plate of cookies. He wastes no time in taking the necessary precautions of a wizard in a Muggle zone, tapping his wandtip to his forehead to conjure up a solid disillusionment charm. He applies the same spell to his broom. And the cookies, for good measure. 

As he flies off, Donghyuck imagines what the Dreamies might think of this. _‘So what did you learn? Any new tricks?’_ they’ll ask. 

 _‘Not much,’_ he’ll respond, _‘just how to access another dimension.’_

  
. . . . . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i fell into hyuck pov like alice into that fucking tree hole. this chapter is needlessly long 
> 
> ohyiiiikes, looks like i also have a monster crush on kun
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> [twitter](https://twitter.com/jenoscreamingo)


	10. distraaaaactaghhehng

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> donghyuck, jaemin, and jeno finally hit their limit when it comes to renjun and yukhei dancing around each other, which is good because SO DID I. jesus, those boys. took long enough. 
> 
> basically, dragon line gets it done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here have 7k of luren
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. . . . . . .

 

DREAM’s second match takes much longer than their first, owing in part to it happening during a mild typhoon. Since a Quidditch match ends only when the snitch is caught, all fourteen players on the pitch slogged through the windiest, wettest, and most discombobulating match of their lives. Donghyuck caught the snitch an exhausting 4 hours and 13 minutes in, and it was mainly because the snitch bonked into his chest and his reflexes snatched it up.

Tonight they had their third match in much better weather conditions and made quick work of their opponent ending with a 160-point margin of victory. They weren’t a bad team, one of the older ones in the league that actually set the original standard of clean-cut passing and defensive Beaters. They’re more of a mid-late game team and consistently summon crazy energy when they’re up against a wall and _only_ after at least an hour of gameplay. 

And so! Based on Jisung’s IQL statistical model and Doyoung’s strategic trickiness, DREAM went into the match with a similar idea to their SKZ battle: win as fast as possible. Not only is DREAM an early breaking, first-strike type of team to begin with, their opponents were very much _not_ that. So naturally they put 1000% energy into a quick, merciless beating—once more leaving Yukhei as the only Dreamie playing even a lick of defense. 

The strategy worked even better this time. There was no need to rally and nothing to prove besides DREAMs inherent superiority. Also, _Yukhei._

Their beloved oak tree now flies with confidence and a _Nightmare_ _Z,_ though Renjun can tell his recent infusion of camaraderie and self-assurance played the bigger role in his performance tonight. With only 5 attempted shots on Yukhei’s goals during the 40 minutes of gameplay, the opposing team wasn’t exactly raining hell (especially if you compare it to SKZs unexpected offensive onslaught in the first game) but for what little action Yukhei saw tonight, he did very well.

It bears noting that Yukhei did _not_ call him babe after the match tonight. Does that statistic feed into Jisung’s model? Maybe it should, or maybe that observation is better served by Jaemin’s relationship matrix. Regardless of the medium, Renjun would rank quite highly in, 'Captains who want their Keeper's attention but don’t know what to do with it when they have it’, and he’s definitely ranked first in, ‘Renjuns who have developed feelings'.

If he leans into whatever is forming with his Keeper, this would be the first time in Renjun’s life any relationship of his begins with romance instead of sex. In no way is this a deliberate pattern of his but Renjun will admit to finding it easier to instigate something physically instead of emotionally—which is _exactly_ what happened with Jaemin. Actually, he and Jaemin came scarily close to entering that realm of romance—Renjun found himself starting to actually like (like, _like-_ like) him and knew his potential feelings couldn't be returned. It’s one of the reasons Renjun had to end it.

So that's that, but what happens when you like (like, _like-_ like) someone _before_ the sexy times? How does one handle a megafauna of a Keeper who wiggled into Renjun's heart _before_ his pants? 

He finds himself actively collecting instances of weird, inconsequential little things that make Yukhei so special and once Renjun started looking, he couldn't stop. Yukhei sneezes whenever he looks directly into the sun and it’s cute. He subconsciously slows his walking speed to match Renjun’s and it’s cute. He found a little frog in the shadows of the bleachers and scared the fuck out of Doyoung without meaning to and that was just priceless.

Their night victory wrapped up about 45 minutes ago and the Dreamies are busy roughhousing back in their locker rooms. Chenle and Yukhei have arms around each others waists, side-by-side as they sway and sing to some old Mandarin victory ballad; luckily Chenle is a jaw-droppingly competent singer and also stable enough to drown out Yukhei’s pitchy attempts at something well above his vocal range. 

Knowing the song himself, Renjun has half a mind to join in for a chorus but someone drags a knuckle from his lower back up to the nape of his neck, shooting a shiver straight through his spine. He turns angrily to face the only person he can never actually get angry at. 

Jeno smiles innocently. “Good job today, Captain.”

“You too, Captain.” Renjun nods before raising an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

Pursing his lips, Jeno furrows his brow slightly, looking at someone over Renjun’s head. “Yukhei.” 

Renjun freezes in place, ears flaring red. He wonders if those sudden pinpricks on his skin are from Yukhei’s eyes on him because it sure as shit feels like it. “What about him?”

It’s easy to underestimate Jeno, which sounds insane because of his solid physique and easy athleticism but its actually because of those features that other talents of his can go unnoticed, like his keen sense of observation and remarkable intuition. There’s no way he hasn’t noticed he and Yukhei dancing around each other. Everybody probably knows. 

His Co-Captain doesn’t speak immediately, locking eyes and holding the gaze before anything. Here it comes. “I think he strained his neck during that collision on his second-to-last save.”

Oh nothing about their bullshit, just Jeno paying attention to the physical state of his players like a good Captain would. “What happened?”

“I didn’t see the hit but I’m guessing there was whiplash involved. See for yourself.” 

Renjun doesn’t see for himself. He doesn’t look around because apparently he’s 10 years old and Yukhei is his first crush. “I trust your judgement.”

Jeno blinks before shooting him a shitty little grin, very much not his sweetness from before. “Can’t even look at him now?”

Face flushed, Renjun scoffs. “Not if there’s a chance he’s looking at me.”

“Well he definitely is.” Jeno laughs, slapping a hand on Renjun’s shoulder and leaving it there. His eyes flick towards Yukhei again and his mirth intensifies. “And now he’s looking at my hand on your shoulder. You have your oils on you?”

“Do I have my…?” 

Oh, does Jeno mean Renjun's homemade physical therapy massage oil potions, many of which are already in this very locker room? Does he want Renjun to do with Yukhei what he's done with everyone else, including Doyoung?

“This is your thing, _babe..._ ” Jeno thinks he’s so funny, bringing that up. The word babe cannot be uttered without at least one person wink-wink nudge-nudging Renjun about it. No one ever teases Yukhei, which is less because they’re afraid to and more because there’s no real sport in messing with someone so transparent and genuine. 

“It’s not my _thing.”_ Renjun growls.

“Are we talking about Lucas’ sprained neck?” Suddenly Donghyuck is there, slinging an arm over one of Renjun and Jeno's shoulders each. As Donghyuck is the only Dreamie who Yukhei still calls by his initial nickname, the Seeker gives it back in kind because apparently, _‘Lucas sounds like Yukhei, don’t tell me it doesn’t!’_

“No.” Renjun growls again.

“Ah, right, is this one of those strange contextual exceptions in which ‘no’ means ‘yes, and shut the fuck up’...?” Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “Similarly, is this one of those contextual exceptions in which you pretend you don’t want to rub his body down with your sex oils—”

“—they are _not_ sex oils.”

“Oh! But they certainly can be." Jaemin slides into the conversation, hipchecking Renjun and mirroring Donghyuck’s position with his arms slung over the Captains’ shoulders, successfully closing their four-man huddle.

Jeno’s eyes flick to Jaemin before snapping back to Renjun. “You’re a licensed masseuse who makes actual money selling magically enhanced essential oil blends. That's the very definition of a professional. You don't have to make it sexy, you can go for a more… clinical angle.”

Donghyuck and Jaemin both utter noises of dissent at this. 

“Regardless of mood, your massage therapy saves lives, Cap’n.” Jaemin continues. “All lives. The platonic and the… not.”

That’s a bit of a stretch, but whenever there are sore muscles that don’t warrant magical healing Renjun takes it upon himself to work it out with his hands, old school. It’s mainly just kneading out knots and the occasional full-body deep tissue massage—unless, of course, he’s in a fuck buddy relationship with the patient in which case he uses it to _destroy_. Just ask Jaemin.

“Why are you guys being like this?” Renjun mutters petulantly, looking down when all three focus their attention on him. 

“Because if you don’t climb that fucking tree—and you know what I mean—I'm going to do something very,  _very_ stupid to trigger your jealousy.” Donghyuck slips his arms off Renjun and Jeno to put his hands on his hips. “Don’t think I won’t.”

“Don’t think you would dare, actually.” Jaemin shoots at Donghyuck before casting softer eyes to Renjun. “The mood is entirely up to you but you’ve always done this for us when we needed it and—”

“—Yukehi _is_ us.” Jeno finishes. Jaemin leans into him slightly, pulling away from Renjun. 

The breaking of their square comes at a good time as Chenle gives them a second’s warning before hurling a quaffle straight at them. Renjun and Donghyuck have the sense to dodge but the leather ball catches Jaemin straight in the chest, sending him wheezing backwards. Jeno steadies him with an arm around his waist, both supporting and cackling at him. 

“Quit being so exclusive, Dragon line.” Chenle jeers, calling out the four born in 2000 by their zodiac sign. “Let’s get out of this sweat hole and start celebrating. Where’s Coach—”

As Chenle asks the group at large Doyoung bursts into the locker room, eyes savagely alight. Ten follows him with clear amusement. Doyoung takes a quick head count before smiling widely.

“Okay, everyone shut up and put your shoes on—” They all have their shoes on, but okay. “—we’re going to one of Kun’s restaurants to celebrate tonight’s smackdown. Private room and ev-ery-thing.” 

“Kun? As in, Qian Kun, ace restaurateur?” Donghyuck chokes on his own spit, not waiting for a confirmation. “Oh fuck, oh man, okay, yeah, we all got our shoes on? Got your wits? No? Doesn’t matter. Nobody bring your wallet, this is going to be a treat that redefines the word itself.”

“Hyuck… what?” Jeno asks, confused. “Who’s Kun?”

Donghyuck smiles sneakily at Ten. “Chittichitti-phonphon is Kun’s husband.”

“Not the other way around, apparently.” Ten scoffs with an eye roll. “Princess Buttercup is right though, no wits and no wallets. We’re going to party until the man-I-am-the-husband-of calls the authorities.” 

“Can we just use our actual names? Maybe?” Doyoung asks the room. No one responds, too excited at the prospect of eating. Renjun holds a hand over his suddenly rumbling stomach and starts walking towards Ten and Doyoung but Jeno gets in his face again. 

“Ah, nah, nope. Where do you think you’re going?” He grins. “I know we got on your case about... the sex oil stuff, but can we go back to the conversation we were having before Jaem and Hyuck made it weird?” 

“You were the first one to make it weird.” 

“And that's how you know it _is_ weird. We’re just trying to highlight that for you so you actually do something about it.” Jeno’s innocent smile is back. “The fact is, Yukhei’s neck needs therapeutic attention as soon as possible and I don’t think you want to get your hands on him while we’re all at the dinner table. We don’t need to see that. Meet us at the restaurant when you two… finish.”

“Get your fucking head out of your ass.” Renjun snaps, his blush negating the belligerence.

If he’s being perfectly honest with himself (which he never is, ever) Renjun has wanted to get his hands on Yukhei since the season started. In a sex oil way. It wasn’t a plan so much as an observation and then Yukhei had to go upend the apple cart by making no secret of his genuine and sincere adoration for him. Shaken by this, Renjun has been scrambling to gather his wits since the aftermath of their first match, when he began to internalize that Yukhei’s heart eyes were the real deal and that it feels amazing to be the target of them.

And that’s not even to mention the ‘babe’ thing that came after.

Renjun can handle liars, manipulators, the chronic narcissist and the closeted jock; but when honest, open romance enters the mix? It would be less concussive to take a fucking bludger to the brain. Now all Renjun notices about Yukhei are the sweet little things like his thousand teeth and that dumb, contagious laugh. 182 centimeters of golden muscle and somehow Renjun keeps himself awake at night imagining Yukhei’s smile instead of his skin. 

“Yo, injured Keeper!” Jeno calls suddenly, waving Yukhei over to get the ball rolling. Whatever this is has been set in motion now, so Renjun gives Jeno a final fake glare before turning to face the Keeper for the first time.

Yukhei turns his head towards them in a heartbeat at the summons, wincing at the sudden movement. “Yeah, Captain...s?”

Pain sparks through his gaze and he smiles widely to disguise it but betrays himself by raising a hand to his neck and pinching the muscle tenderly. Oh, whoa, this isn’t a Dragon line set-up, Yukhei is actually hurt. Renjun is two steps towards him before he decides to move, reprimanding himself for selfishly agonizing over his own heart while Yukhei is actually in pain and he has the power to alleviate it. 

“Talk to me, Keeper. What happened?” Renjun barks at him, mildly betrayed when it comes out as more of a croon than an order.

Jeno slips away without another word, extremely pleased with himself. He reaches Jaemin and Donghyuck, giving them both low-fives without having to make eye contact. The message that he and Yukhei are staying behind is silently communicated to the rest of DREAM except for the Keeper, whose eyes dart from the backs of the departing team to Renjun, his approaching crush. 

“Uh, I…” Yukhei looks to the door again, watching the last of the Dreamies depart.

“Whatever, we’ll catch up with them later.” Renjun smiles faintly. “You hurt your neck, didn’t you? Whiplash?”

For the first time since meeting each other, Renjun and Yukhei are alone together. Two young men who (probably) like each other but also (definitely) don’t know how to behave around the other anymore.

Fuck you, Dragon line. This is another strange contextual exception in which, ‘fuck you’ means, ‘thank you’. Jeno, Jaemin, and Donghyuck are simultaneously the best and worst wing-men imaginable, because they sure know how to get the job done if they feel like it but apparently never when it's convenient or desired by Renjun. 

“Yeah, it hurts. A little.” Yukhei’s hand is on the back of his neck again. “It was a pretty solid collision, I’m actually surprised no one got hurt. Like, for real.”

Renjun tutts. “Your pain looks pretty real to me.”

Something powerful flashes through Yukhei’s eyes at this, but only for the briefest moment. “Are you a… you know, do you…”

He struggles for the Korean word, looking increasingly more anxious as his vocabulary fails him. Renjun knows what he’s getting at. “Am I a legitimate Healer? No. But…”

Never in his entire life has Renjun been embarrassed by his own expertise like this. The last time someone needed a massage (Jisung, lower back, pre-Yukhei) Renjun actually bellowed, _“I see that wince, child, get over here so I can punch that pain out of existence.”_

That’s the attitude he normally takes when it comes to his ministrations but Yukhei deserves to be treated sweeter than that. Renjun would smack any other Dreamie into tomorrow, easily, but Yukhei? Absolutely not. That would be like kicking a puppy—and not just any pup, it would be kicking an emotional support dog-in-training. 

Raising his eyebrows when Renjun fails to follow up on this explanation, Yukhei prods, “Do you have some pain potion or something to help with my neck?”

Technically yes, but. It's more than that.

“ _Hands._ ” Renjun bursts out. “I have hands. Two of them, actually.”

Yukhei blinks a few times as he tries to translate that nonsense through multiple languages, contexts, and idioms. Unfortunately he has nothing to work with because what Renjun said was literally just declaring that he is in possession of two hands.

He elaborates. “I grew up… uh, well, my grandmother practiced muggle homeopathy—you know, acupuncture, trigger points, chakra nodes, that Muggle witch stuff. She’d take proven muggle remedies and slip in something magical for better efficacy.”

If anything this explanation confuses Yukhei even further, which it should because more than half of that was advanced Korean vocabulary. Renjun quickly repeats himself in Mandarin.

Yukhei flips into Mandarin to match with a small smile, his words coming smooth and competently as he fills in the gaps of Renjun’s lame explanation. “And you learned from your grandmother?”  

“I inherited her golden hands.” Renjun nods with a private smile, turning his back on Yukhei in favor of retrieving a bottle of regular lavender and also a chamomile-dittany-lavender essential oil blend from his locker. “You haven’t been around long enough to know but I do this with the Dreamies... surprisingly often.”

“Do what, exactly?” Yukhei is more confident speaking Mandarin but that also means his emotions translate better. In this case, nerves. Nerves and a bright flash of hope that hits Renjun right where it counts. 

“Massage. Them. You too, if you want.” He stumbles, turning back to Yukhei. “If you’re okay with it, I’ll pummel your neck into paste.” 

Yukhei’s eyes bug out a little. 

“You know… the deep tissue massage kind of paste?” Renjun attempts to clarify with a wince. Looks like he’s twisting his own mother tongue into knots now. “Fuck, okay. I’m a licensed massage therapist and I can fix your neck. Is it okay if I touch you?”

Paralyzed for a heartbeat, Yukhei then nods multiple times in recovery. “Yes,” He says in Mandarin before adding, “yes, yes, yes,” in Cantonese, English, and Korean.

After a moment he throws on another emphasized Mandarin, “Blanket statement: yes.” 

Trying not to get caught up in his energy, Renjun nods stiffly. “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”

Yukhei laughs once, brightly. “I’d be down with this even if you didn’t know what you were doing.”

 _And why might that be?_ Renjun wants to ask. He should ask. Regardless of the answer to that simple question, quite a few things would be clarified in one fell swoop. In fact, it’s entirely characteristic of Renjun to do such a thing because he believes whether honesty is the best policy or not, it never fails to get the point across.

That point being this hazy, looming _them._

The tension between him and Yukhei is closing in like a dawn about to break. The sky is light, the morning birds holler, and in minutes the sun will peek over the eastern horizon and finally shed true light on their obvious, inescapable chemistry. Unfortunately one of them has to take it upon themselves to be the sun in this metaphor as at the moment it seems like they are both waiting for the other to be that very light. It’s more than just a light, it's a spark, one that will ignite and flare up into what this could be. _Should_ be actually, because Dragon line (himself included) is right and this is getting ridiculous. 

“Moving forward... please don’t be down with shit like this if the masseuse doesn’t know what they’re doing.” Renjun reprimands mildly, the tips of his ears burning red. 

“Understood.”

“This isn’t the ideal environment but if you sit on the ground in front of the bench—” Yukhei does this as immediately as Renjun directs it. “—we… okay, and there you go.” 

After a bit of struggle Yukhei crosses his long legs on the floor, leaning back against one of the locker room benches. His eyes are bright with expectation. “I’m good. I’m ready. Should I…?”

And then Yukhei—one of the hottest people Renjun has ever known—starts to take off his shirt. Which, reasonably, is what happens for a massage but Renjun gets a glimpse of solid abs and a treasure trail before holding his palms out at Yukhei with a solid, “Ahhh—no need for that.”

Which, in yet another strange contextual exception actually means, ‘next time’. Hopefully.

“I mean, it’s just your neck, right?” Renjun questions with a fake laugh, taking a slow seat on the bench behind Yukhei. He has to part his legs with a slight stretch in order for Yukhei’s shoulders to fit between them and before even making contact Renjun feels his warmth. “No back or waist stuff, _right?”_  

Yukhei hesitates at this question, as though considering lying. 

“Yeah, just the neck. Right—” He goes with the truth, pressing fingers gingerly against a spot on his lower left neck area in lieu of explaining further. 

Renjun counts his heavy heart beats like a metronome, aligning himself as he considers this opportunity. Yes, he balked at Yukhei’s potential shirtlessness (especially in such an intimate setting as this) because for the first time in his life he wants to do this differently. He wants to start from the heart. 

What is he waiting for? If it’s some romantic starting pistol, Renjun will take that gun and shoot Yukhei straight in the heart if it’ll get this moving. The Keeper is confusingly too shy to make a first move himself and apparently light-years more patient than him. Renjun wants this, wants him, wants all of it—why shouldn’t he just take it for himself? 

“Right here?” Holding his breath, Renjun rests his hand over the one Yukhei has holding his neck, sliding down his long fingers to find the exact spot the Keeper was indicating. Yukhei doesn’t respond immediately so he adds more pressure. “Here? Talk to me, Keeper.”

“Y-yeah.” Yukhei whispers, leaning back into the fingers pressing into his sore neck. “I mean, it’s just a bit of whiplash, like you said. No need to alert the authorities...”

Renjun shakes his head with a fond smile, absolutely thrilled that Yukhei can’t see him. He rubs a spot of lavender oil between his palms, gently warming it. “Yeah, and the neck is intimately connected to everything above your diaphragm through the cervical nerves. You can’t underestimate any trauma to your cervical spine.”

“No need to sell me on the idea anymore.” Yukhei laughs. 

Renjun hums to himself. “Oh, I’m not selling anything. I’m _scaring_ you.”

“Don’t think the scary doctor routine will work either, sorry.” 

“Good, because I need you relaxed for this. Close your eyes—” Renjun holds his lavender-scented palms in front of Yukhei’s face from behind, cupping them in front of his his nose. “—and take three deep breaths. Deep. Take the time to do it right.”

Nobody ever said Renjun had a good bedside manner. It’s the main reason he makes money off his oils instead of actually touching bodies. Yukhei follows his instructions and despite rushing through his exhalations Renjun can see his posture relax as he breathes in the lavender. After applying a different essential oil blend liberally on his hands, Renjun takes a quick, steadying breath.

“I’m going to start now.” He breathes quietly, leagues more tender than before. Yukhei deserves actual effort on his part and let no one say Huang Renjun doesn’t know how to play a sexy Florence Nightingale when the situation calls for it. 

Before Yukhei can respond Renjun has his hands on his neck, not a chokehug for once. His touch is light as he applies the oil to his entire neck, dipping a little under Yukhei’s shirt to reach his deltoids and trapezius muscle. Then he places a thumb on the main spot of trouble, pressing lightly and confirming his success when Yukhei lets out a small, ' _ahh.'_  

“Levator scapulae.” Renjun identifies, quiet and low in pitch as he puts another thumb on top of the one holding the spot for reinforcement.

“...s’that some spell?” Yukhei murmurs, growing breathier as Renjun starts pressing into the spot with both thumbs, alternating between applying pressure and relieving it.

Renjun laughs, a bit too brightly for the mood. “It’s a muscle, you big moose, and since it’s deep-tissue I have to go through the trapezius first. I can’t get _anywhere_ unless you _relax._ Try to zone out.”

“Sorry, it’s justhhngh—hoah _fuuck.”_ Yukhei just starts making noises when Renjun gets into a groove with his massage. “It’s ah, ummhg… I d-dunno...”

Renjun leans his torso closer to Yukhei, purposefully making it sexy when he whispers, “Breathe, slow and natural. Breathe into it. Also, stop talking.”

“Can’t.” Yukhei mumbles, ending with a self-deprecating chuckle. 

Renjun has to play with that. He _has_ to. “Can’t breathe?” 

“Can’t stop talking.” Yukhei admits, and Renjun gets to see his ears redden in real time. “Need to distraaaaact _aghhehng...”_

 _Need to distraaaaactaghhehng from what, my hands on you?_ Renjun smiles to himself at a job well done and briefly wonders if he should tone down the teasing a bit. That's not the goal for today, the priority is having Yukhei in his hands and watching what he does because in every moment they share Renjun is still determining if he seriously, genuinely feels something for him. 

_Hedoeshedoeshedoeshesodoesyouhaveeyeshetotallydoeshehasbigoldfeelingsforyoucomeonrenjunuseyourfuckingeyes._

The scariest part of any relationship are the feelings; whether or not they come, in what form they take if they do. Renjun has spent his entire life dealing with fear—always fighting it, always at odds. Fear of intimacy has been the toughest for him to conquer, probably because it’s not just a spider he can easily crush. Instead of squaring off against his fear of intimacy as a fight to be won, he has to envelop himself in it and remedy the fear through understanding, not victory. 

Intimacy isn’t something to overcome, it's something to hold on to. 

Like Yukhei, maybe. 

Throughout these musings he actually gets into the stride of his neck massage and Yukhei has somehow figured out how to shut his trap, now letting out only the occasional groan or sigh for Renjun to savor. He follows instructions well. Too well, actually, as now that he’s not making conversation Renjun only has his own thoughts to interact with—all of them centering on the man in his hands.

Yikes. Yukhei was distracted by him so apparently karma dictates that Renjun himself be distracted, willingly picking through his own baggage if it means being able to start something real with the Keeper. That in of itself is more emotional growth than Renjun has undergone in a _while._ All because of Wong Yukhei, DREAMs official emotional support dog (in training).

And here’s the thing: Renjun doesn’t want to share him with the rest of DREAM anymore. 

“Hey.” Renjun asks, but it doesn’t exactly leave his mouth. He tries again with more success. “Hey, Yukhei.”

For someone more or less melting in place, Yukhei’s sudden stiffness at this is incredible. Even Renjun flinches from it, thinking he touched a nerve or kneaded too hard. “Ah, sorry, did I hurt you?”

“Nah.” Yukhei shakes his head with a small laugh. “No, not… it’s just, you’ve never said it before.”

Is Yukhei the one messing up his mother tongue now? “Come again?”

Ears aflame, Yukhei sighs, shaking his head slightly before trying again. “My name. You’ve never called me by my name before.”

That can’t be true. 

“That’s—what? Shut up, that can’t possibly be the case.”

Yukhei turns his neck slightly, shooting Renjun a charmingly disbelieving eyebrow raise. “Think about it for a second, Milord.”

Saying Milord implies the ‘babe’ it originally covered up; by not saying it he ended up screaming it. They stare at each other like this and Renjun is the one to look away first. “I… really haven’t called you by your name? This whole time, not once?”

Yukhei snorts at this, looking forward once more. His nerves are gone, probably transferred straight to Renjun. “You call me Keeper, oak tree, moose... your favorite is just ‘megafauna’, like the animal classification but as a nickname. And—” 

Renjun gently strangles him at this. “Okay okay, Yukhei, I get it, Yukhei. Wong Yukhei, my emotional support megafauna.”

MY. Did he just fucking say, ‘my’? 

As hasty as the legendary ‘babe’ slip-up, Renjun backtracks. “I mean come on, you’re like those dogs people take into libraries and restaurants because they make you feel good and safe and whatever.”

Looks like he’s on the ass-end of a Milord level cover-up this time around but instead of handling it with adorable finesse as Yukhei had, Renjun just whines a bit and uses too many words. Well, he is the younger of the two by a whole year so he’s entitled to it. 

“Do I get to wear one of those red vests that says, ‘EMOTIONAL SUPPORT MEGAFAUNA’ on it?” Yukhei turns to him again with a goofy grin, kind enough to overlook the whole ‘my’ part of Renjun’s comparison. He heard it, though. Loud and clear.

It’s easier for Renjun to imagine an enormous moose wearing a red ‘SERVICE ANIMAL’ vest than deal with his skyrocketing heart rate. 

“Okay, megafauna, we’re switching it up.” Yes, Renjun doesn’t _have_ to make the first move here. He just really wants to. 

Before Yukhei can do anything Renjun swiftly maneuvers off the bench and stands before him, attempting to snap with his oil-slick fingers and getting absolutely nothing for it. “Up! Up you get.”

Blinking up at him for a moment, Yukhei finally nods and stands, keeping a respectful arm’s length space between them. It’s a little unfair that he can go from sweet little thing to gigantic living sculpture in the blink of an eye. Renjun quickly realizes that he can’t comfortably reach Yukhei’s temples like this and having him crouch over would be counterproductive to getting him to relax.

“Can you not be tall for like ten minutes? Just—just sit on the bench like I was.”

Yukhei obeys this easily, failing to stifle an amused grin. “You know I’d give you half of our height difference in a heartbeat.”

And he means that too. Renjun rolls his eyes with a blush, taking half a step back. “And you must know I’d kick your ass if we were the same height.”

“Come on, if we were the same height I’d have to stop letting you win.” Yukhei almost smirks and before Renjun can retort he changes the subject, “So, what’s the next miracle, Captain?”

Shaking off that slight against his ego, Renjun takes another step and boldly nudges Yukhei’s knees apart so he can slip between them. “I’m about to do some trigger point wizardry to your temples."

Renjun cups his face before pressing his pointer fingers to his temples and settling his thumbs just below his ears behind the hinge of Yukhei’s jaw but doesn’t proceed. "Close your eyes."

He doesn't obey this and continues to stare up at Renjun, earnestly searching for something in his face. An explanation, probably. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks quietly.  

“Yes.” Yukhei closes his eyes with a deep exhalation. 

Renjun knee-jerk instinct is to respond with, _“I know”,_ but then he looks down at Yukhei’s (literally) blind trust and the last word he was going for crumbles into ash. He starts to apply light, steady pressure to all four points with a quiet, “... breathe, Yukhei.” 

A flicker of a grin crosses Yukhei’s face at the use of his name but he keeps his eyes shut and shifts to deep, long breaths. “Ohhkay this is good, this is nice."

This is the closest they’ve ever been before and Renjun is fully aware of the fact—it was his damn intent. Something more intimate than laughing together side-by-side or being thrown over his shoulder. Even more intimate than Yukhei’s first move being all cuddly in the locker room before their first match. 

Wait. 

That’s... true, isn't it?

Technically, Yukhei already made the first move _almost a whole month ago._

Gone are the butterflies that gathered in his gut at the sight of Yukhei’s face and left in their place is a slow acidic burn. Yukhei has already started this and Renjun’s been floundering for an entire moon cycle giving him little if no actual reciprocation and too many mixed signals. A bad, _bad_ start with a very good guy.

Embarrassingly, it took a whole month for Renjun to start listening to his own feelings and come to terms with the fact that he can no longer imagine having a fuck buddy relationship with Yukhei. No, he wants broomback dates and pinky-linking and _meaning_ to it all. Maybe he always knew he wanted that sort of thing but it’s taken until now to allow himself to seek it out and to accept the same sentiment from others. It strikes him that on top of everything, Yukhei really is a good match for him because it takes someone with patience and transparency to be able give Renjun the time he needs to settle his heart and figure himself out.

Renjun will repay him for the patience and affection. He'll show him it was well worth it. 

“Yukhei.” Renjun breathes, watching Yukhei’s eyes move under his lids. 

“Yeah?”

“Keep your eyes closed.” 

“They _are_ closed.”

“Keep them that way.” Renjun is doing this. Yukhei's head might be in his hands but the Keeper seems to have Renjun's whole heart in his.

Yep, he’s doing this. Just as he’s sought Yukhei's consent to touch him this whole time, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Eyes still closed, a huge, toothy smile illuminates Yukhei’s face which incidentally makes him rather difficult to kiss. “I thought I gave you a blanket statement.”

“You did, didn’t you.” Renjun scoffs, cupping his jaw and running a thumb just under Yukhei’s bottom lip. “You won’t regret it.”

Yukhei freezes solid at this, ears aflame, which gives Renjun the perfect opportunity to lean down and gently raise Yukhei’s face up to meet his. After the smallest nose nuzzle Renjun kisses him softly, taking his time and dragging his fingers through his hair. Whenever Renjun imagines kissing Yukhei (which he does, a lot), the older man is always enthusiastic, almost eager, and immediately overwhelming but definitely in a good way.

This is _not_ that man. 

This very real Yukhei completely controls himself as he kisses back, slowly rising from his seat and inching an arm around Renjun’s waist, his other hand wrapping easily around his wrist. He pulls Renjun’s hand off his jaw, gentle but brooking no argument. As slowly as Yukhei stands, he pulls Renjun closer to him, the large hand around his wrist slipping up so they can lock fingers. 

It takes Renjun a while to get what Yukhei is doing and tries to chase his lips but fails when he stands at his full height. Renjun lets out a whiny scoff when he breaks off the kiss, annoyed and blushing all the way to his roots. “What—”

“Sorry, just, let's slow down a bit. We definitely need to talk about this.” Yukhei shoots him a weak smile, his body tense with pure restraint. He drops Renjun’s hand in favor of spanning his whole hand across Renjun’s ribcage, holding him down securely. What has him holding back, but more importantly, what has him looking so melancholy all of the sudden?

Ah, maybe it was because Renjun once had an amicable fuck buddy relationship with another Dreamie and Yukhei thinks that’s what Renjun wants from him as well. He can’t fault him for that, mainly because Renjun hasn’t explained himself _at all_. 

He considers his options. Reasonably he could actually climb Yukhei, much like a tree, and continue to make out with him. But that’s exactly the sort of ‘fuck first, talk later-probably-never’ behavior that Renjun might be finally ready to destroy within himself. Even if he can’t completely eradicate his intimacy issues, he has to try. He wants to try with Yukhei.

“I… don’t laugh, but…” Renjun screws up his nose and looks straight ahead at Yukhei’s chest. “I already planned our first date. Daydreamed it, really.”

This is a regular KO for poor Yukhei, which definitely wasn't intended. Renjun's plan was to prove his intentions were, more or less, pure. That he wants something different with him than whatever Yukhei imagines he had with Jaemin. It's a clumsy attempt but Yukhei absolutely loves it.

"Ahhh, well I guess we have to go on a date now, Renjun."

His name sounds foreign in Yukhei’s mouth and it takes Renjun all of two heartbeats to sift through his memory bank and realize, “Holy shit. This is the first time _you’ve_ called _me_ by my name.”

Unlike Renjun, Yukhei is fully aware of this fact. “Yeah, I know. I was waiting for our first kiss.”

Something explodes inside Renjun, and he doesn’t recover in time to prepare himself for Yukhei leaning down into another kiss, deeper and more desperately than before. He’s everywhere, looming above and around him, dragging Renjun deeper and deeper before pulling away abruptly to a growl of complaint.

“We  _are_ going to talk about this.” Yukhei pants lightly, eyes blown. “Oh yes,” he kisses Renjun again, “yes we are,” then he kisses him on the nose, “We’re going to talk about all sorts of things.” Another kiss, this one longer.

Finally Yukhei pulls away, hands cupping Renjun’s head as he brings their foreheads together with restrained joy. “Like the fact that I have _also_ already planned our first date.”

Renjun lightly sucker punches Yukhei at this, stifling his whine with his lips.

 

. . . . . . .

 

“Wellll, Dragon line…” Jeno drawls, pointing at Jaemin and Donghyuck across a table boasting more bottles of magical and mundane alcohol than food at this point.

“And compatriots!” Chenle bites at Jeno, tossing a soju bottle cap at him. 

Ah, he’s right. Jeno backtracks through his inebriation. “Dragon line _and_ compatriots!” 

“And!” Jaemin raises a finger, the only sober one present. Jeno doesn’t envy him that, not yet anyway. “Coach and honorary Dreamies Taeil, Ten, and now Mr. Kun!”

Kun, two mere drinks in, raises an eyebrow at this but Ten truly beams through his drunken blush at being called a Dreamie. One of Jeno's heroes helping them grow, hosting a feast, and somehow sincerely proud to count himself among this team. Jeno's team. Taeil, hanging out quietly in the corner with Doyoung, has been an honorary Dreamie since he made their suite of brooms anyway and isn't surprised by this at all. 

“Are you about to talk about our missing Captain and Keeper?” Doyoung asks, a bit grumpy at the end of a long day. 

Jeno turns to him, utterly betrayed that Doyoung would get to his point before he does. “It’s been…? Yep, more than three hours with no word from the lovebirds."

"I think it’s safe to say there’s tongue involved, at the very least.” Donghyuck adds with a cackle. 

“We all saw this coming, we should have made a bet about it.” Chenle grins, about to open another bottle of soju but Jisung grabs his wrist, cutting him off for the night without so much as a word. 

“Poor Yukhei pining from across the field, day in, day out.” Ten shakes his head. 

“Don’t forget stubborn Renjun, refusing to accept himself as worthy of Yukhei’s attention even though... duh.” Jaemin sighs, shaking his head. 

Jeno gulps and the rest of the party stiffens, falling strangely silent. The unspoken something is pretty damn obvious so Jaemin, silver-tongued and sober, sighs before looking at an empty corner as though there was something there.

“Hey you, big elephant in the room. That’s right, I’m addressing you. Our thing—which happened forever ago, by the way—was purely physical and no one got hurt. It ended, we are not each other’s most recent dalliance, and I can’t think of anyone better for Renjun than Yukhei. Like actually, not just within DREAM or even the IQL. This is a good thing for everybody here.”

After his bit Jaemin turns back to them, satisfied. “Elephant addressed.”

Good. That’s good. Maybe that mild but constant anxiety curling in his gut can ease up a bit now. One thing always creeping at the back of his mind throughout Dragon line wing-manning Renjun has been the errant thought that, though Jaemin has said many times that there were no big time feelings involved, maybe him seeing Renjun with Yukhei now would kindle something that wasn't there before. 

Which is stupid. So stupid. Jeno has been quietly agonizing over Jaemin’s potential heartbreak as well as girding himself for a broken heart of his own because if Jaemin is sad about Renjun being with Yukhei (unconfirmed, but _come on_ ) that means he likes Renjun despite everything he's been saying, which obviously would mean he doesn’t like Jeno like that and will not, ever, and Jeno thought he was prepared for the eventuality of—

“Drink some water, partner. It looks like your head is about to explode.”

Jeno snaps out of his drunken anxiety spiral to see Jaemin next to him, offering him some water with an understanding smile. What could he possibly understand, that Jeno can’t stop thinking about his lips? Revealing Renjun and Jaemin’s history didn’t only spur Yukhei into action; Jeno got hit with the same stick of irrational betrayal because he might just like Jaemin. In that way. Which he'll only admit to himself, thank you very much.

“Thanks.” Jeno mutters, taking a sip of the water then another, longer drink. The rest of the party has regrouped to exclude the two of them, now recounting stories of Yukhei and Renjun and their ridiculous mating dance.

“You okay?” Jaemin asks, sliding closer. His hair was trimmed recently but is still long, styled half-up in the messy bun that seems to be his favorite these days. Apparently Jeno looks at him for too long without speaking and Jaemin adds, “Too much to drink?”

Well honestly, yes. “Yeah. Big day. Big drinks.” _Big feelings, ugh._

This doesn’t convince Jaemin, both because he’s sober and because he knows Jeno so well. It strikes Jeno right there and then that he doesn’t actually know that much about Jaemin in comparison, which doesn't seem possible but the more he considers it the more he realizes the strange truth behind it. Jaemin is good at keeping people at arms length, asking subtle and clever questions that keep others talking without remembering or bothering to ask him anything in return. Even Jeno, apparently. He should try harder, he's definitely going to try harder.

“You should haul your ass to bed. But first finish that water.” Jaemin nags in that fond, exasperated manner always assumed by the only sober one of the pack. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

As soon as he leaves, Jeno accidentally makes eye contact with Chenle across the room. The Chaser nods towards the door Jaemin just exited before raising his eyebrows at him. Jeno, drunk, doesn’t get his drift until he sighs in exasperation and flaps his hands at the wrists to imitate flapping wings. In a last ditch effort Chenle elbows Jisung next to him, who mimics the wings without knowing what it’s for.

Oh. Oh no. Jeno is definitely next in line to be wing-manned...

... by the maknaes.

 

. . . . . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you thought the pining was over? oh no, that bad boy just hopped to a different host  
> drunk jeno pov!!  
> dont worry bub, you're in clumsy baby hands
> 
> apologies for the lapse in updates, i took a huge, necessary hiatus from fic'ing and am slowly crawling my way back
> 
>  
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/jenoscreamingo)


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